Hindsight
by Grimalkinn666
Summary: The brothers have just finished a case that Sam can't seem to remember after waking up, assured with lame excuses, they continue onto their next job. But Sam's having strange nightmares that elude him when he wakes and something terrifying targets him with pain in its wake. He thought it was over with his visions, but this terror proves him wrong.
1. Forgetting Yesterday

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or its characters, only my created plot, towns and monster._**

**_Tangari is pronounced Tang-gah-ree and is entirely of my imagination_**

**_Rakna is an original monster because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't find mythology on anything similar. XD_**

**_This is set very loosely and generally around season 6._**

**_Hope you enjoy the first chapter, please tell me what you think of it and if I should keep going. _**

The familiar drone of the Impala's engine and slightly rocky motion of its drive gently dragged Sam back into what seemed like wakefulness, his eyebrows pinched together in confusion and his bleary eyes blinked away the sleep as he pulled himself back into a straight sitting position. Inside the car, it was unnaturally quiet and the landscape outside seemed wrong in some way; the sun was too dark, yet it made weird, too bright, splotchy patterns on the dashboard.

The clouds were in odd clumps in a grey/green sky and the rolling hills that they were driving past were tipped purple and brown. It all looked sickly and dark and wrong, Sam pressed a hand to his face and shut his eyes, terribly confused. He didn't remember even planning to fall asleep or actually doing it...he remembered getting in the impala with his brother.

_Brother. Dean_..."Dean!" He piped up suddenly, looking left but found he was in the back seat, not the front and opened his mouth in a moment of shock as seeing himself acting out the actions he had wanted to do before him, in the passengers seat. Weird. Very weird.

No one was driving the car, the steering wheel not even moving. His heart jumped a beat as he felt the car swerving to the side, he tried to reach over and steer it away from the sudden growing, stretching abyss that had appeared on the side of the road but found he was frozen in place. The Sam he was watching appeared to have the same problem.

He decided he hated this out of body experience.

And just as the car toppled over the edge, into the awaiting blackness, something hot and painful flushed through his body and his head snapped up, into something hard. A window. The passenger seat window.

Normal noises, familiar music and natural light filled into his senses as Sam jolted out of his...nightmare? He wasn't entirely sure, the dream had made no sense...What had he been dreaming about again?

Classic rock was currently playing quietly through the speakers and the gentle tapping of fingers against a steering wheel accompanied it; which suppressed the sudden urge to make sure there was someone handling the wheel this time. He didn't know why he had to know that. He narrowed his eyes in further confusion, the murmurs of his dream blowing away like cobwebs in the wind.

"Sam?" He heard his brothers voice cut through the last of the groggy haze.

Rubbing grit out his eyes, Sam stretched in the small space and felt his heart rate slow back down before replying.

"Yeah?" He cleared his dry throat and looked over to Dean.

"You alright?" Dean asked, casting a glance towards his younger sibling in waning concern.

"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry...just a bad dream."

Dean gave him a last once over before turning up the music, grinning, "Can finally listen now without you whining."

"I don't _whine_."

"Sorry, do you prefer the term _complain_?"

"You didn't have to turn it down in the first place...I don't even remember falling asleep." Sam ran a hand through his mussed hair and stretched his jaw in a yawn.

"Oh man, you were out of it. You really got no sleep the past two nights didn't you?" His brother commented more to himself, shifting gears.

_Past two nights..._ He frowned as he tried to remember, everything just seemed so...blank. "Uh."

Dean raised an eyebrow at him, "That bad huh? Lay off the booze next time bro."

"What?" Sam's frown deepened, why would he intentionally allow himself to get drunk?

"Sam- I'm kidding." Dean said, dead panned. "Seriously, you can't remember?"

"I don't know- should I?" He looked at his older brother for some confirmation but he only shrugged in response.

"I'm sure it'll come back to you, you were pretty tired. Been sleeping like a baby for hours." Dean cooed, teasing him.

Looking out the passenger side window with a frown, a slight headache pressing behind his eyes, he noticed that the scenery seemed awfully familiar. Green mounds and hills rolled past with the occasional stretch of trees underneath a grey/blue sky with dots of cloud masses. He sniffed, what was so familiar?

"Hey Dean," He started, his brother grunting in answer, "Have we been here before."

Dean gave him a strange look, "What, this road? You sure you're okay?"

He waved him off in annoyance, "Have we?"

"No, Sam. We haven't." Dean continued to look dubiously at Sam, who's attention was suddenly drawn to the broken fence on the side of the road and the gorge below it. The gorge that the impala was suddenly heading towards as Dean stared at him.

"Dean- Dean what are you doing? Look at the road you idiot!" He yelled in sudden panic.

His brother blinked as if coming back to reality and saw their current course before yanking the steering wheel to the left and rightening their position.

"Whoa, sorry. I think I could use a nap too, huh Sammy?" Dean laughed nervously and clapping him on the shoulder before gripping the wheel with both hands.

"...Yeah." He replied, not really listening anymore and trying to once again calm his racing heart.

Rock music filled the car the rest of the way...to wherever they were heading, Sam didn't ask, his tongue felt heavy and his throat felt dry. His headache was lacing its burning fingers across his cranium, causing him to squeeze his eyelids together and press his head on the cool window.

Time whipped past at an alarmingly fast pace, Sam wondered if he had drifted off again without realising it because when they came onto busy roads again, he felt well rested and with only a faint, dull throb in the lower regions of the back of his head.

The sun was high in the sky now, pushing back the remaining of the clouds that hadn't already receded and instead of rolling hills and sparse tree's, there were now footpaths, buildings and light poles.

"Where are we headed?" He asked, speaking up again finally since the near crash.

"Dude, you still don't remember?" Dean asked, looking across to him.

Sam shrugged innocently, offering no explanation when he didn't have one.

A sigh came from his brother, "Did you hit your head or something?" And at Sam's pointed look, Dean raised a finger, "I don't care, I'm checking later. This is weird."

"Dude, can you just- answer the question?"

Noting his brothers discomfort and confusion, Dean gave in and replied, "A town called Tangari, we'll be there within the hour. Bobby mentioned a possible job up there for us since we were nearby."

"Okay..." Sam nodded, "What about before I fell asleep in the car, the past two days. Remind me."

Cocking an eyebrow, Dean looked back on the road and slowed at a red light before starting again, "There had been this spirit, a...damnit, I don't know the name."

"Figures."

"But it wasn't our usual spirit, it taps into a humans mind and sort of hides there or something, eating away at the processes and stimulations that makes you react to something." At Sam's tilted head, he brought up his hands, "Hey, this is how you explained it to _me_, more or less. I just barely listened until the part on how to kill it."

Scowling at his brothers incompetence, Sam sighed through his teeth, "And how do you?"

"The person stays awake for two to three days and has holy water injected three times a day, until it starves the spirit and banishes it from his or her body, which we then exorcise back to hell." He rattled off, taking a right as the lights turned green.

"Wait...does that mean I-"

"Yes, Sammy. Douche bag spirit decided you were a great camping spot." Dean smiled sourly, "The bitch is back in hell now, so relax. I'm sure your memory will come back, must be a side effect of getting it rid of your mind or something."

Sam furrowed his brow as a thought surged up from deep below and struck him, "Oh. I know what that is."

"What, the spirit? Great, see told you."

The headache that had been a dull throb in the back of his head slowly started moving upwards and around his crown. Sam shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. "Yeah, it's called a Rakna, a demon spirit that can only live off something living. So by exorcizing it, you practically kill it. And you got it half right, it hides away in the mind of anything living, not necessarily human but anything with higher thought process and stimulation is better."

"Yeah, yeah geek boy. I got the talk the last time." Dean teased.

"Why'd it pick me and not you?" He asked suddenly, the thought niggling away at his head.

"Oh uh," The older Winchester cleared his throat, "Something about your psychic-ness."

Sam stared, "But I don't have visions anymore, it's been like three years since they stopped."

"Hey, I'm just relaying what the creepy spirit thing said," His voice dropped to a crazed whisper,_ "It is faint, buried deep at the bottom of his soul.'_ I don't know man, its fine, you're fine, we're both fine and the Rakna dick is long dead, so why don't we focus on our next hunt, yeah?"

A sharp jabbing began behind his eyes, Sam bit back a growl of pain and rubbed circles around his temples subtly, "Uh, yeah sure. What is it?"

"Not entirely sure but Bobby said there's definitely something strange that we should ask about and check out- you okay Sam?"

Noticing that his brother saw the wince embedded in his features, he forced himself to relax and remain stoic, "Yeah fine, don't worry just a bit of a headache. Probably lack of sleep and all."

This seemed to work because Dean took one more glance before shrugging, "We'll be at Tangari pretty soon, I'll book us in and we can relax till morning. Sound good?"

Nodding, Sam turned to look back out the window at the occasional passerby on the street, a primary school squatted in a corner by the road, children could be seen running around or sitting with friends_. So it's a weekday and probably lunch time._

Feeling more in the loop, he tried to relax but his headache was really starting to effect him and he made sure his head was properly turned before clamping his eyes shut and biting the inside of his cheek. The cool glass of the window did little to stifle the enraging, pressing heat in his skull and he clenched his jaw in pain.

The word _vision_ popped up in his mind but he threw it mentally aside, that'd be impossible, plus it would have started by now.

_Just a headache._

_Just a headache._

His thoughts returned to the Rakna, there was something he was missing so decided to go over the facts until he found a gap.

_Demon spirit._

_Lives off the living._

_Prefers humans._

_Okay, so it went for me for my apparently suppressed psychic ability, sure. Makes sense. It was in for about two to three days. Symptoms, Sam. Symptoms. _

_It heightens fear responses, being a powerful emotion and thought stimulus- but why does the person need to stay awake?_

Trying furiously to ignore the pain, he gritted his teeth and tried to focus even harder.

_Dammit, I can't remember. Oh- um, dreams, nightmares. It creates certain fear landscapes to draw out extra processes and feeds off them._

_ Why does that make me any more special than the next person? What's does having the past ability of visions have anything to do with it?_

Sam's thoughts were interrupted though as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise and the prickle of something scalding hot skim down it. His headache had vanished, almost into something solid and real._ A materialised headache? You're joking._

The prodding occurred again and he jumped, gaining a look of inquiry from his brother, he smilied awkwardly in assurance before looking forwards. They had just passed a sign that read, _'Now Entering Tangari.'_

Gripping the sides of his seat with white knuckles, he felt hot breath on his right ear and stiffened as faint words which sent laces of pain through his spine and skull, whisper_ "I've got you_."

He swallowed back the pain with a suddenly dry throat and fought the urge to shudder and scream.

_There was something in the backseat._

But he knew no more as sudden blackness slipped over his vision and tied him down into the darkness, his mind crumbling away until unconsciousness overtook him.

Thunder cracked like a whip in the dark red sky, yellow lightening cutting and splitting at it like a knife dipped in honey. Purple rain was spilling onto the concrete below Sam's feet and a shopping trolley was rigid against the fence to the side of the orange hued car park.

Golden lightening struck down on said trolley and he saw himself being thrown backwards from being so close to the blast, before a sudden flick of pain tore at his system and he kicked out, everything suddenly feeling more real and _right_.

"-ammy." "_Sam_!" Dean shook him awake and his eyes snapped open, he whacked out an arm for support as the vanishing feeling of falling ran its course.

His arm found purchase and a grunt followed, Dean sidled backwards before grabbing his wrist and holding it down, "Sam, jesus, careful. What the hell man?"

Blinking away the feelings of confusion, he realised that they parked outside of a motel, Sam squinted at the haphazard neon lights. **Dallas Motel **and below it in smaller script,**_Tangari_**.

The lowering sun cast long, amber rays on the motel, giving it a very unappealing look and highlighting its peeling white walls and green doors.

"Sorry, I'm awake." He mumbled, wiping a sweaty hand over his face. He couldn't quite remember what he had just been dreaming about.

_Probably a bad dream. No big deal. At least that headache is gone._

But instead of that making him feel better, he was reminded of the encounter with whatever it was that he was sure had been in the backseat behind him.

Shivering and thinking it was probably part of his nightmare, he swallowed and waved off his brother's questioning gaze before opening the door with stiff arms and stepping out, albeit unsteadily. Dean followed out the the other door and went round to the trunk to grab their bags of clothes and other necessities.

Sam stretched and leaned against the Impala for support while his brain kicked back into gear._ I must still be pretty tired. _He figured, shrugging and catching the bag Dean chucked at him.

They headed over to the building, Dean leading the way in and to the front desk where a bored looking man with dark hair and a black shirt leaned, tapping away at his phone with focused lines stressed into his face.

His name tag read _Dallas_ and Sam noted he was most likely the owner of this crappy joint.

"Hey, we'd like to book a room please." Dean spoke up, dinging the bell with an impatient twitch.

Dallas looked up and noted them with surprise, as if he weren't expecting anyone for a while. Or ever. "Uh, sure. Will it be a double or two beds?" He asked, clicking a pen to note them down.

Dean was clearly repressing the urge to smack this man and instead shot out a hasty, "Two beds." Before taking the keys handed to him with a nod and heading outside to find room 11.

"Why do they always think we're gay? You'd think brothers would come to mind first, wouldn't it?" He complained, trying to pull Sam into his bubble of annoyance.

But the younger brother was distracted by a rusting, metal trolley wedged into the barbed fence near their door. _Its a shopping trolley, Sam. Get a grip._ He bit his lip, feeling something off about it, something nagging deep within his mind recesses but not wanting to alarm his brother further, he simply nodded vaguely at whatever his brother was talking about and followed him into their temporary home. He would go back to that trolley later.

Tan walls with white borders and bookcases greeted him, a deep green carpet covered the floor which held two small and simple looking beds, a circular table beside a crappy kitchen and a bookshelf. A half open bathroom door showed the outline of a toilet, shower and the reflection of a mirror.

_Nothing fancy, as always._ He didn't mind.

Dean called shotgun for the bed closest to the door and dropped his bag, instantly going for the TV remote, "This thing better have HBO or something." He muttered, referring to the small T.V. sat on a small bench against the wall opposite the beds.

Sam blinked and walked past him to the bed in the corner, dropping his bag and grabbing a towel and a handful of fresh clothes. He glanced at the time, 4:20 PM before straightening and heading to the bathroom.

"Gonna test out this shower."

"Good, you stink."

"No I don't you jerk." He scowled, pushing open the door and stepping in to hear his brothers snarky reply.

"Bitch."

Ten minutes later, a freshly washed Sam emerged in a clean plaid shirt and dark jeans. He threw his old clothes to the side of the bed and sat, feeling absurdly tired already. Dean seemed to be immersed in watching NCIS while eating the rest of a bag of chips from the car.

"I thought you didn't like this show." Sam commented, turning to look as well.

"Man, I never said that. This show is alright." He replied defensively before chucking a chip his way. Sam caught it and looked at it warily before shoving it in his mouth and getting back up to grab some water.

As he passed the kitchen window, the glint of metal from the trolley caught his eye again and he scrunched his brow in thought, eyes narrowing before sighing in defeat and putting his empty glass back down.

"I'll be right back, it's a bit stuffy in here." He said to Dean, giving a lame excuse which seemed good enough before stepping outside the room and shutting the door behind him.

Thunder clouds loomed ahead, slowly growing in size; Sam turned from them and walked to the left before coming to a halt by the trolley and tugging it from the wire. Making sure no one was watching, he picked it up and threw it over the fence where it crashed into a tree from the small cluster beyond the motel. It landed on its side and seemed no longer intimidating just as the first drops of rain gave way from the dampening sky.

Though with the relief came the same fiery pain from before, but it seemed solid again and steaming, invisible hands gripped his biceps behind him and dug its nails in.

He cried out and tried to yank free, stumbling forwards as a blinding headache flashed over his vision, he staggered into the motel wall just as something boiling whacked the back of his head.

He fell to the ground with a pained hiss and grunt, seeing strange, bright spots dancing in his blazed vision.

"_How did you do that!_" The heated voice screeched in a whisper in front of his face. "_How_?!"

The sound of a door opening muted the thing and suddenly the real and solid feeling was gone, replaced with an agonising headache that seemed intent of cooking his brain.

Fisting his hair and drawing his hands into his forehead, he screamed into his arm as the pain became overwhelming, the rain grew heavy and loud but his rapid heartbeat drummed louder, completely drowning out the sound of rushed footsteps.

Cool hands gripped his shaking wrists and and tried to pry them away, an urgent, concerned voice finding its way through the firestorm.

"_Sammy_! Sam, what's wrong? Come on buddy, we gotta get you inside." Dean said over the rain, gently pulling him.

Thunder roared in the sky from a distance and a lightening strike zigzagged near them, setting off an even louder screech that could have shook the ground.

The headache suddenly started washing away, turning cool and dying down like water on hot coals. He swore he felt steam rising from his ears.

"Come on Sammy, is it a headache? Talk to me man."

Sensing Dean's fear, he slowly took his hands from his face and instead gripped Deans to be pulled up and steadied.

The world was a confusing haze as he was lead back into the motel room and laid down on his bed, his shoes were taken off and hair towelled dry quickly before warm covers came to hug him.

What felt like a long while of silence, footsteps came by his bed again and a warm hand gently lifted up his head. "Panadol and water Sammy, best I can give you at the moment. I'll go by a chemist for you, alright?"

Taking the panadol and finishing off the glass of water, he felt his spinning head begin to slow and calm down but also drag him downwards to unconsciousness.

"Just lack of sleep, is all." He mumbled into the pillow. "I'll be fine." He lied, feeling incoherent.

Fingers tangled themselves in his hair and pulled softly, easing out the damp knots. "Sure, Sammy." He heard his brother say, though doubt and disbelief laced them heavily.

Just as he was about to accept the dark and warm bliss of sleep, a hot hiss sounded in his ear.

_"You think you're better than me?"_

He stiffened.

"Sam?"

_"You can't run from me. There will be no rest for you, boy."_

"Sammy. Hey?" Dean asked as Sam clenched the sheets in either fear or pain. Both?

_"I'm already stronger than ever, I've got you. You're mine."_

A moan of pain passed through his closed lips as he tightened his eyelids and shoved his face deeper into the pillow, grabbing with sudden strength at Dean's outstretched hand before a forceful darkness slammed down on him like a cold, iron fist.

_"I've got you." It spat._

_There had been something in the backseat._

Good, bad? Should I keep going? Let me know! :)


	2. Lying To Me & Lying To You

**_Disclaimer: I still do not own Supernatural or its characters, only my own plot, town and monster._**

**_Thank you so much to those who have followed and favourited, its great to know people are interested and bigger thanks to those who reviewed, it really spurred me onto writing this earlier than intended. Thanks! Enjoy ~_**

The cold seemed inescapable, it drilled into his skin from all sides and ripped away at flesh, icing his blood and cracking his bones.

Of course, it wasn't that bad. Yet. But it certainly felt like it..

Sam didn't want to open his eyes, he didn't want to see the small confinement covered in ice and risk his eyeballs possibly freezing over.

Shoving his hands against his chest under his jacket and sitting in a corner on the ground, he drew his knee's in and pulled tight.

_No, idiot. You should be running around not sitting about._

Hissing profanities through his chattering teeth he forced his eyelids to open and felt a sudden surge of vertigo as a tan coloured ceiling spun before his eyes.

The pain hit before his brain could comprehend where he was, a shooting, hot rattle down his spine that raced to his nerve endings, Sam arched his back and opened his mouth in a silent cry as he tried to ride out the sudden heat. Luckily, the pain left just as suddenly as it hit and he flopped back down onto the bed, feeling exhausted yet wide awake.

The motel room began twirling slower until finally coming to a halt, giving his dizzy brain a rest.

Sun was streaming through the cracks in the curtain and a silence, bar the ticking clock, weighed down on the room.

Blinking, Sam swallowed through a dry throat and wondered briefly what had just happened, when only faint flashes of cold and heat came through he dismissed it to a strange dream and pushed himself up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. One of the table chairs had been pulled up next to his bed, a faint imprint remained behind with a note.

Sam reached over and picked it up, clearing his throat as he did so,_ Gone out to find a chemist and some breakfast, be back around 10:30. D_

He stared in confusion at the note for a while, a chemist? Before the remnants of yesterday came sidling back into his mind. His heart picked up a slight pace as he remembered the strange words from the thing that had supposedly attacked him.

_What would I tell Dean? My headache is out to get me?_

Running his hands through his hair, he sighed and stood to stretch before getting a glass of water from the kitchen.

Dried puddles of rain and scattered leaves littered the near empty car park and a cloudless sky allowed the morning sun to re heat the surrounding environment. Sam leaned on the kitchen counter top and counted three cars, including the Impala.

_Crappy business._ He noted with a twinge of sympathy for Dallas.

Running his hand across his face, trying to wake up, he looked at the time, 10 AM, a half hour till Dean said he'd be back. Sam decided he could do some research; distract himself.

_Its just lack of sleep._ He tried to assure. _Nothing more._

XxxxxxxxxxxxX

As he sat on the bed, back leaning on the headrest and fingers tapping away in the search bar, Sam could still hear the nagging voice in the back of head telling him something was wrong. He knew he wasn't getting good sleep and he knew that the hearing things and having constant pain was clearly not a sign of anything good but the dreams and memory loss mushed it all together in one big pile of confusion. It was difficult to differentiate between the real and not real and wether or not its simply just after effects of having a demon spirit sifting about in your mind.

His fingers stopped and he sighed, it was probably just strange after effects. He tried to convince himself but that nagging voice would _not_ let up.

Sam glared at the screen before him, not really seeing it, he was fine. Lack of sleep and after effects, he would be fine. _I _am_ fine._

Having lost focus from researching suspicious activity in the town, his gaze shifted to the bed beside his, the covers un used.

He frowned, Dean must not have slept, unless he fell asleep in the chair. Sam nearly rolled his eyes at the amount of mother henning already taking place but found he was instead annoyed, he was fine wasn't he? No help needed. Sam felt his jaw clench and averted his eyes just as the clock ticked over to 10:20.

_Ten minutes to get some research done. Come on Sam_. He urged himself before continuing his google searches and flicking through the local news paper that was found in the bedside d rawer.

As he went along, he did in fact notice certain articles seeming to link.

_Jessy Moores, graduate of Tangari High, aged 23 locks man (Timothy Haig - 16) in shop freezer. Haig was later found the next morning, deceased. Moores insists she had no idea what she was doing and was 'out of control' before being courted and found guilty, sentenced to jail. 2007, August 13th._

As he read, a tremor passed through his body and he grimaced, feeling a slight tinge of pain and icy weight in his chest. Swallowing and trying to ignore it, Sam pointedly looked at screen, hoping the random chill would leave but as he finished skimming over the report a flash of imagery smacked into his vision.

_Cold, cold, cold. _Was his first thought in the daze.

A door with no handle. Ice. White. Blue fingers. Blue lips. Numb.

_Cold, freezing, dying._

Then as soon as the experience came, it left with one last jab from a full blown headache that sent him reeling.

It took a few moments of ringing ears, glazed sight and catching his breath but he finally blinked and shook his head, as if ridding the last of the confusing memories.

_Must have been the nightmare I had last night._

_No big deal._

_None._

Shoving the annoying voice out of his head, he breathed deeply and forced himself to keep on going. There was nothing wrong with him, so why should he quit?

Finding the next article, he read on, though warily this time. Luckily, no more confusing recalls interrupted this time.

_Keith James, student of Tangari High, aged 17 claims he never remembers trapping his boyfriend in the shop freezer in which he worked. His boyfriend, William Land, 15, was found dead 11 hours after, leaving a distraught James to face court. He was found guilty but instead sent away for psychiatric evaluation. 2008, September 24th._

Sam bit his lip, finding an obvious connection and instead searching for similar deaths before 08; he grinned in triumph when two more, 2006-January and 2005-March popped up with the exact same type of murder, just as Dean opened the door and walked in with a plastic bag held in his left hand.

"Sammy? Thought you'd still be sleeping." Dean commented with a pointed look his way, shutting the door behind him.

"I hardly sleep in." He brushed him off, eager to get on with his findings.

"Yeah but- you alright?" His elder brother asked, light concern still lingering in his features. "Here." He chucked Sam a bottle of painkillers.

Glancing up to catch them, he gave Dean a grateful look, now noticing the springing headache behind his eyes. Probably from looking at the laptop screen too soon after a migraine, he supposed.

Unscrewing the lid and reaching over to pick up the half finished glass of water he replied, "Thanks and yeah Dean, I'm good. It was just a bit of a migraine, it'd been building all yesterday." He assured, though it seemed more to himself than his brother.

Dean watched him unconvincingly as Sam downed the pills and, noticing his brothers look, he sighed again. "I'm fine Dean. It's just probably lack of sleep and I don't know, after effects? Beats me, I don't know what happened on that hunt." He shrugged.

Dean frowned, "You still can't remember?"

Hesitating, he swallowed, should he concern his brother any further?

"Well, bits and pieces. All a bit muddled but I'm sure it'll make sense soon enough." He smiled through the lie, hoping it was convincing enough.

It seemed to help ease the brotherly worry of Dean's face and he moved over to take out a double sandwich in a container and a pie. Handing Sam the sandwich he looked at the laptop with the multiple tabs open on news reports.

"While I dislike the sudden use of brain function, did you find anything?"

Taking the packaged food with little appetite, Sam nodded, ignoring the first comment. "Yup, looks like possession of some sort. Uh, each year since 05 a male aged from anywhere between 15 to 18 have been murdered in any shop in Tangari containing a freezer by being locked in and left till morning."

Dean pulled the chair closer and started opening the plastic container holding his pie, "Alright, I'll bite. Let me guess, the person who did it said they didn't know or remember what they were doing?"

"You'd guess correct and dude, pie for breakfast? Really?" Sam scrunched up his face as his brother took a bite.

"What? I had coffee and the last musli bar from my duffel before this." He protested.

"I don't that that really benefits having the pie now in any way, Dean."

But his brother merely shrugged and nodded to the screen, "Come on, keeping going lil bro."

Rolling his eyes this time, Sam turned back to his laptop, "Uh, so far there were no more deaths reported this year yet. And it's obviously always a new person locking the people but always workers at the store. Both male and female. It's only the victims that seem to have similarities."

Asking through the chewed pie in his mouth which made Sam cringe slightly, "Like what?"

"Uh..Always in that age group like I mentioned, they were all in high school when they were killed, all male and from the looks of it, similar appearance too. Though it's hard to tell, the photo's are real grainy and two of them have none from the family's request." He handed his brother the laptop for him to look through, still having not touched his supposed breakfast.

Dean brushed off his hands and took the computer, glancing back and fourth between tabs and as the switches went on, his face grew further and further into a frown before green eyes started flicking to him and back to the screen. "Uh, Sammy."

Sighing once again, which he seemed to be a lot recently, Sam replied to his brothers worried tone, which he could never quite seem to erase, "I know, I know. Calm down, its not even that similar plus, I'm not a high school student here or anywhere, nor am I in that age range."

While this was true, Dean's discomfort was obvious and he continued to examine the grainy representations of young boys that seemed to try and match his younger siblings looks.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Dean handed the laptop back, trying to ignore that fact for now, "So what do you think, vengeful spirit possession?"

Glad the topic was dropped, Sam nodded, "That's what I'm guessing, though it's still a little hard to tell without solid evidence of ectoplasm or something."

"These are the closest we've got, couldn't hurt to try." He suggested, going back to finishing his pie.

Taking one last look at the report, he grunted with agreement, "Go interview the parents of each victim, try and work out the spirits motive?"

"I suppose so. I'll grab the FBI thread from the trunk and head off within the hour." Dean informed, brushing off the remaining crumbs and standing, depositing the empty container in the bin on the way out to the impala.

Sam closed his laptop and plugged it in to charge before standing and stretching himself, he could do with a brisk shower before they headed out. Dean came back in a moment later, though holding only one suit.

He frowned, "Dean?"

"I'll go this one alone, you can check for possible victims." His brother said quickly.

"What? No. I'm coming with you." Sam protested, trying to meet his gaze.

"With frost fetish Casper looking for kiddies like you? No Sam, it's too risky plus you're still recovering from yesterday."

Glaring now, Sam took a step forward, "Dean, I'm fine and it'll be fine. It's not like I'll be defenceless and alone, I know what I'm doing." He pushed, refusing to be beaten.

Dean gave him a long look before shaking his head, "I've got this one."

"I'm coming Dean, this isn't up for discussion."

A barely audible sigh came from his brother who finally looked him in the face, "No it's not, which is why you're staying. I already went through some spirit living in your head, I don't need another one screwing with you in the same week."

He thought the grinding of his teeth could be heard a mile away, "Look, I'm sorry you were worried but you can't just keep me out because you're worried of the danger. _Every_ hunt we go on has the possibility of coming out unscathed or injured or _dead_, but it comes with t he job and I'm telling you, it'll be_ fine_. My big brother's got my back right? What do I have to worry about?"

He saw Dean's frame lax slightly and he knew he'd gotten through.

"Fine, okay. But if you so much as _trip.._." The threat was left unfinished, with Dean pointing at him in his mother hen fashion.

Scowling in good nature, Sam nodded, "Yeah, yeah. I'll grab the suit." He started towards the door but Dean stopped him.

"Nah, I got it. Take a shower, you got all wet from the rain last night and didn't change."

Having barely noticed, Sam glanced down at his wrinkled and suddenly uncomfortable clothes before shrugging and heading for a shower.

XxxxxxxxxxX

"Tim was a wonder of a kid, good grades, good friends and a clear future. It was always a shame." Mrs Haig told them, a nostalgic look creasing her face.

"Do you know of any enemies Tim would have had? Any dislikes towards him at all, suspicious behaviour by someone he worked with at the store?" Sam asked, putting down the cup of tea she had made.

She shook her head, dark hairs straying across her pinched face, "Not that I know of. Again, Tim wasn't a kid that got enemies, he was kind to everyone and did his own thing. There was no reason for someone to-" Mrs Haig's reply came out in a strangled sob, Sam gave her a sympathetic look and waited a moment.

"It just happened randomly," She finished, "No one ever knew why the boy did what he did."

Dean piped up, his voice seeming gruff compared to the other two in the room, "What was your opinion on the girl? Ah, Jessy Moores?"

She looked to him quizzically, "Why do you ask?"

"Well it's just she said she didn't realise what she was doing, that she felt out of control. Did you-"

"Believe her? I was always un sure. I knew of her, Tim knew of her. I didn't really know her well enough to make an assumption but she never struck me as the killer type."

Dean nodded and let his brother take over once more, "Just one more question, was there anything particular about that day that you know of, or of the store?"

Mrs Haig thought for a moment, her eyebrows drawing together before she responded, "N-no, not that I know of. It was just...random, but I suppose- Timmy was still fairly new to his job, barely a month in."

Jotting down a quick note, Sam smiled in appreciation and comfort before rising, "Thank you for your time and co operation Mrs Haig, it's been a great help."

Dean joined him as she replied, "Oh that's no problem but why is the FBI looking into this_ now_?"

"Reasons of interest." The elder brother put shortly, Mrs Haig seemed to get the idea and stood down.

"Well...Good luck I suppose."

Saying their goodbyes, the brothers exited the house and walked towards the impala.

"Pretty much the exact same story for William." Sam commented, un buttoning the suit jacket.

"And for Daren." He added, referring to the 16 year old they had asked about before Timothy.

"I'm definitely betting ghost possession, the victims seemed to have done nothing and even the parents question the killers."

"Yup, seems like we got a pissed spirit on our hands that likes routine. Great." Dean said dryly, opening the drivers side door and sliding in, Sam a moment after.

"You all good?" Dean asked, looking towards his brother.

Sam frowned at him before understanding and scowling, "I'm _fine_, Dean."

He raised his hands in defence, "Okay, okay. I'm just checking." He turned back and started the engine before pulling out of the Haig's drive.

Sam looked out the window and stifled a wince, he hadn't been okay, a headache had been pestering him the whole time, right around his eyes until he could see blurry dots. He didn't say anything of course, he didn't want to be treated like he was limp, he was _fine_.

He _would_ be fine. And he had to trust that.

"We gonna go check out some of the stores with freezers in Tangari?" Sam asked after a moment of silence and getting his pain under control once more.

Dean looked sideways at him, "Nah, the questioning took longer than expected plus on the way back from buying breakfast, I passed a diner with a nice looking waitress." At the roll of his brothers eyes he added, "She might have a friend." He winked and nudged him but elected no enthusiastic response.

"You're no fun Sammy." He grinned, "We'll get changed and head there for some dinner. How about it?"

He shrugged, "Yeah, whatever."

XxxxxxxxX

As it turned out the diner was closed early for maintenance and Dean decided to instead try the bar across the street which Sam wasn't all too thrilled about. Cigarette smoke and alcohol fumes with a headache didn't seem very appealing in his book but he didn't complain, not wanting to add to her brother's suspicions, and followed along anyway.

It wasn't too crowded but it was certainly busy, Sam noticed as they walked in, attacked by curls of smoke and a faint stench of sweat and heat.

His headache blared on his temples and he got a sudden waft of hot air which triggered a shiver despite it, memories of the car and outside the motel coming to him.

Getting himself together before Dean could notice, he followed along and took a seat at an empty booth, nodding silently when he was asked if he wanted a beer.

He didn't really but no need to call for alarm.

While he brother went to buy the drinks and probably chat up the first woman he came across, Sam closed his eyes and was struck with the feeling of vertigo, the blackness seemed to spin but gradually slow and stop into something comfortable. Just as he seemed settled in the loud, obnoxious place a familiar hissing started by his ear.

"_Not so clever now are we?_"

He sat rigid, expecting there to be more or some extra pain to kick his skull but was met with silence once more and air passing behind him like there had just been something there.

Opening his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose and hissed in frustration through clenched teeth, he didn't understand what was going in and this time couldn't blame the voices on a dream state or major headache.

"Here Sammy." A soft voice to his left perked his head up, the world only slightly dizzy.

Dean set his beer down in front of him, a passing look of concern lighting his movements before saying, "Hot girl by the bar, has a sister. Wanna come, ease off that stress?"

Smiling in gratitude for trying but shaking his head, Sam let his brother go it alone like every other time, "I'm good right here."

"If you say so, Samantha. Here's the keys for the impala and motel room, don't do anything stupid." He scolded in advance before handing them over.

Sam raised an eyebrow at the keys in hand before looking back up, "You already think you're going to get lucky? You've barely talked to her."

Dean shrugged, a sleazy little grin on his face, "Don't you worry Sammy. You have fun on your own, don't talk to strangers and no getting drunk. I can't have you stumbling back to the motel and bashing your head in."

He snorted, like he'd get drunk with his already pounding headache.

"Yeah, Dean. Don't worry."

Giving his brother one last cocky look, Dean turned and sauntered off back to the girls, leaving Sam to drink his beer in near silence.

He gave the bar a once over before growing bored and looking out the window instead to the quiet street, taking a sip of his drink and completely missing the bartender watching him with narrowed eyes, black ectoplasm now dripping from his ear.

**_Sorry if that chapter was a little boring, I'm trying to slow my writing pace down a bit otherwise I end up going way too fast and ruining the story._**

**_But anyway, good, bad? Got some suggestions? Tell me in a review! :)_**


	3. Don't Talk To Strangers

**_Disclaimer: I still own nothing from CW's Supernatural apart from my own original creations._**

**_Once again, thank you so much to those who revieiwed and followed! Its so great to see people are interested._**

**_Also, it was brought up that some of my wording may be slightly comfusing as I'm Australian writing something based with American terms. Apologies for that ^^_**

**_Just in case,_**

**_Trolley: Shopping Cart_**

**_The wire fence: A barbed Wire fence surrounding the far side of the motel, separating it from a small forest like area._**

**_Footpath is pretty self explanitory xD_**

**_IF you need me to cover anything else, feel free to ask in a review._**

**_Anyway, enjoy ~_**

Sam swallowed a mouthful of the lukewarm beer and fought a grimace, while his headache seemed to be lessening, the alcoholic fumes did little to stifle the last of the stinging jabs in his temples.

He let out a long breath and tried to relax back into the seat, fighting the urge to just leave right then and there but he had to stay at least until Dean left, other wise his brother would know something was up.

Speaking of his brother, Sam noticed the constant glances and looks from Dean every few moments; seeming as if he regretted giving Sam the keys to the impala and leaving him alone for some one night stand. He should a little really, but Sam didn't care so he instead matched his gaze and sent a pointed bitch face of, '_I_ can _take care of myself_.'

Dean seemed to take the hint and quit watching him from afar, for a while at least.

Lifting the glass bottle to his mouth, he allowed a small smile, he did appreciate his brother's efforts and was always grateful but that didn't mean there weren't spats of annoyance along the way with them. The one thing that was never talked about but was silently acknowledged was Dean's motel bed, always being the one beside the door incase there was an intruder. It came so naturally now, there was never any questioning on that side of the protective front.

Feeling more at ease in the bar and having grown more used to the smells and now and then glances from his brother, he tried to enjoy himself more and relax. Swallowing another mouthful of the now warm liquid, he reached to the side and pulled out his laptop from his bag, he could research on why the possible vengeful spirit was locking kids in freezers.

Setting it on the table and opening the lid he let it start up and finished the last of his beer, his headache now a dull ache above his eyebrows.

As if on cue when he placed his empty beer bottle on the table, a male bartender came over quickly and smiled. "Would you like another?"

Taken off guard by the sudden socialisation, Sam blinked before nodding, "Uh, yeah. Sure, thanks."

The bartender smiled again, a strange little smile before taking the empty bottle and "accidentally" brushing his hand with Sam's.

Feeling a little more than creeped out, Sam swallowed and shuffled awkwardly in his seat, trying to ignore how rushed the bartender seemed to be with getting his next drink. Looking intently at his laptop screen, he typed in his password and clicked into Google. Beginning his research into strange deaths before 05 in Tangari.

Before he could even type anything in, the bartender was back, eyes seemingly fixed on the Winchester. "Here you are." He said.

Sam looked at him with a creased brow, reading a name tag of _Nathan_ and forcing a smile of his own, "Thanks."

But Nathan clearly wasn't done and leaned casually on the table, "You new around here?"

"Uh...Yeah, just passing through."

"Alone?"

His eyes darted to the side to try and find his older brother, feeling suddenly vulnerable before a scolding thought snapped him back to reality. _Grow up Sam, he's just being nice. Plus, if not. You can handle this._

Sam cleared his throat, "Nah, I'm with my brother."

The bartender's eyes raised, "Is that so? You boys heading somewhere or just cruising? It's nice on the roads this time of year."

_See? Just nice._

"Cruising, just thought we'd stop here for a bit, take a break. Seemed nice." He lied easily and fingered the neck of the new bottle he'd been given. _Should probably pay._

Just as he was reaching for his wallet, Nathan stopped him with that off smile once more, "Nah, don't worry about. On the house."

_Okay, a little odd._

The loose grip on his wrist didn't let go and Sam felt his jaw clench before pulling his hand away swiftly and smiling what was hopefully seen as dismissal.

Nathan glanced back at the bar and sighed, "I should probably head back. It was nice meeting you..-"

"Uh, Tom." Sam lied again and nodded, "You too." He hoped it sounded convincing enough as Nathan turned and walked off.

Letting out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding and feeling a sheen of sweat on the back of his neck cool he noticed how tense he had been.

_Why_?

Sam frowned, something felt off, he could feel his skin prickling whenever he looked at Nathan but quickly scolded himself mentally and pushed it aside. _You're just getting paranoid now._

Blinking, he was about to turn back to his laptop when he felt a familiar pair of green eyes on him and he flicked his own over briefly to meet them.

Dean showed obvious suspicion towards the bartender and was waiting for confirmation that everything was alright, Sam nearly laughed. He rolled his eyes at him which said enough and turned away to finally start of the research he had wanted to do a few minutes ago.

After a some minutes of finding nada, he tilted his mouth in a mixture of annoyance and thoughtfulness, his left hand reached absently for the cool beer bottle and lifted it to his lips before pausing and hastily putting it back again without a drop entering his system.

_I'm an idiot. The spirit is obviously killing people that looks like him in the way that he was murdered._

As he mentally chided himself, another voice joined in.

'_It doesn't take a genius Sam. You're slipping._'

Sam stilled and felt a twinge of hot pain above his ear before it cooled and all went quiet again. His tongue suddenly felt like lead though and his throat parched, he gripped the bottle filled with alcohol and took a refreshing swig. Completely missing the triumphant grin from Nathan.

Typing in a new search phrase, he dug around the web until finding an old article, practically hidden from a report of an earthquake and building collapse that month.

Smirking in success, he opened the link and began reading.

_Daniel Frasier aged 16 and student at Tangari High was reported missing a day after the earthquake that managed to take down a General Store on Philipsson Road._

Sam quirked an eyebrow, he hadn't expected the two events to be linked at all, he read on.

_Emergency services that were on the scene of the wreckage said to have found no evidence of the boy even though his mother, Terry Frasier, noted that he was working there at the time of the earthquake._

_Search crews continued for 72 hours more before Daniel Frasier was presumed dead, along with seven other unfortunate victims of the disaster._

Sam frowned, that made no sense. If he died in the earthquake, why would he be so angry and restless to possess people and lock others in freezers? Sam felt that he should have figured at least something more out by now but his mind seemed slightly groggy and he rubbed his eyes, taking another sip, hoping to wake him up. He couldn't be getting drunk, surely? He'd only had one a bit bottles of beer and he was hardly a light weight.

Blaming it instead of lack of sleep from the nightmares, he tapped his cheeks to try and get at least a little more alert again before scrolling down to read further. His questions answered near the bottom of the report, an answer _he could_ have come up with. Sam frowned further.

_Two days after Frasier was announced deceased, his body was found when the last of the wreckage was cleared. Trapped in the compact remnants of the store's freezer was the last place rescue crew's expected to find him, and after autopsy it was reported that he died at least two hours before the earthquake from hypothermia. The reason behind this was unknown; wether or not it was a tragic accident or horrible murder is still yet to be discovered._

Sam scoffed at the screen, it never _was_ discovered. Some poor bastard was clearly locked in a freezer to die by someone he worked with.

Pulling up the articles about the other deaths, Sam looked over the teenagers who had possibly been possessed.

Looking between each, he noticed there was no real age difference or gender stability, it was instead random except for the fact that they all worked at the store and all knew the person they were forced to kill.

Chewing his lip, Sam looked around for Dean, finding him still chatting up a woman with red hair who seemed just as into it as he was.

He wanted to go to him and show his find but decided at the last second not to, he didn't want to be a bother. It could hopefully wait till morning, plus, he could even get more facts by then.

Sam took one more swig of beer before deciding against any more and pushed it aside, feeling even more fazed out than before. He should probably head back to the motel.

Shutting the lid on his laptop, he clumsily picked it up and shoved it back in his bag before pocketing the keys and phone with shaky fingers.

_Since when did alcohol effect me this much? _He wondered to himself, feeling a familiar nagging in the back of his mind that was screaming a reason his bleary ears couldn't pick up.

Standing carefully, he met Dean's quick look and gave a small wave before walking out, trying to keep a straight and balanced line. Which he managed until a gust of cold evening air blew onto him once he stepped out, causing him to stumble.

Staggering over to the parked impala, Sam fumbled with the keys and opened the drivers side door, sliding in. His muddled brain took in the key and where to put it, a reasoning thought coming to the surface.

_Maybe I shouldn't drive...But then again, walking back would take a while and could be just as dangerous._

_Dean would kill me if I left the impala here._

Shrugging, he put the key in the ignition and started the engine, Sam hadn't noticed the sweat on his palms until they gripped the steering wheel which suddenly seemed much heavier than it used to be.

He swallowed heavily and struggled to find the gas pedal with his foot.

_Wait a mo...How do I go backwards again?_

His eyebrows pitched together in confusion before he jumped, startled from a tapping at the window. Sam turned his head and managed to focus on a face after a few moments, Nathan.

Rolling down the window Sam looked at him, feeling too tired to do much else.

"Hey, Tom? Was it." Nathan asked.

Tom? Since when- oh. Must be all...under cover-y. Yeah, good job Sam. He felt internally proud of himself.

"My shift just finished and I happened to notice you don't seem too fit to drive, huh Tom? I usually walk home so it's no trouble, want me to drive you to wherever you're staying?" He asked, a kind smile settling on his face.

Sam squinted at him, feeling the practised instinct within him to defend himself begin to prickle, "Uhm." He slurred, the still early evening seeming to dip darker than it had been just a second ago.

"Really, you should let me help. I can't have you driving off like this and crash."

_He's probably right._ Sam thought before nodding and opening the door.

Nathan smiled further and helped him out, glancing around before leading him over to the passenger side of the car. Once he was sat, Nathan went back around to the drivers seat and shut the door before pulling out of the car park.

"Where is it you're staying at, Tom?" He asked.

Sam rolled his head to look at him, pondering over the question for a moment as street lights brushed over his face, creating dark crevices below his eyes and red flashes over his hair.

"Motel...starts with a..a D. Think." He mumbled.

"Ah, Dallas Motel?"

"Yeah! That one. _Dayyas_." Sam replied cheerfully, horrible pronouncing his l's.

Smirking to himself, Nathan took a right and and continued onto the motel in silence, Sam slowly beginning to grow less and less lucid, his eyelids drooping.

XxxxxxxxxxX

They arrived at the motel just as the evening began lowering into night, Sam had surprisingly managed to fend of sleep on the trip and was even able to walk, or more stumble heavily, over to Room 11. Nathan unlocked the door for him and followed Sam inside, turning on the light as Sam went into the bathroom as if forgetting there was a stranger with him.

Looking about the crappy room, Nathan scrunched his nose in disgust but continued to wander around in curiosity, finding two duffels beside the two single beds to prove Sam's earlier statement of having company. While he was in the bathroom, Nathan crouched beside the duffel closest to the door and rummaged around, finding with slight shock and surprise weaponry such as a shotgun, handgun and knife. Clothes, toiletry, light ammunition and what seemed like a small package of salt among the weapons filled the rest of the bag.

Wondering if this was Tom's, Nathan stood and looked at bed that seemed practically unused, he rifled through the covers and pillow, finding another knife underneath it before heading over to the second bed with ruffled covers and a lopsided pillow; having clearly been used.

Dirty clothes were folded beside the bedside cabinet on the floor next to the second duffel which was filled was ultimately the same contents as the first. Though a haphazard leather bound journal was in one of the zip pockets, Nathan quickly glanced through it, his eyebrows raising and eyes widening.

_Dammit_.

He glared at the closed bathroom door and turned to look at the dropped items on the small table near the door, keys, phone and a wallet.

Opening the wallet, he was hardly surprised anymore when he found multiple ID's and credit cards, about fifty bucks of loose cash was with it along with a picture of a blonde haired woman. Nathan frowned, _Sister? Friend? Girlfriend? Fiance? Wife? _Shrugging, he put the wallet back down and instead looked quickly through the phone as he heard the running of a tap.

The first contact that was also on speed dial was a Dean Winchester, Nathan supposed this was his brother and their real last name.

He hastily pulled up some texts and scrolled through until he found the name, Sam given by Dean.

_Tom_. Nathan scoffed.

As the bathroom door knob was clumsily turned and opened, Nathan put the phone back and snarled silently at the room. It just made _Sam_ an even better excuse for the next kill.

Said boy struggled out of the tiled room and trudged over the bed by the wall, the used one which confirmed the sleeping arrangements to the bartender.

As if suddenly noticing the presence in the room, Sam looked up with glazed eyes. "What...you doing?"

Nathan gave a fake smile, "I was helping you to your room remember and making sure you didn't have an accident. I'll be off now if you're alright?"

Sam let his eyelids drop for a moment and nodding lazily, "Yeah..." Before promptly dropping onto his bed, half on his stomach, half on his side facing the door.

Nathan gave the room a last glance over before walking out and shutting the door behind him, an instant growl forming in his throat. _Stupid hunters impeding on my personal business. They don't understand. I'll show them._ He vowed before heading off into the night.

XxxxxxxxxxX

Dean walked back to the motel in the early morning, picking up a black coffee on the way. The night had been pretty dull compared to most and for once in a long time he felt regret when he woke up, deciding instantly to dress and leave as quickly as he could. Plus, he wanted to be with Sammy and make sure the idiot didn't get himself to more trouble with headaches or whatever his excuse had been.

With the motel now in sight and finished coffee cup disposed in the bin on the corner, his walking pace quickened unconsciously to get to the door. He noted that the impala was safely in the carpark with no visible scratches and allowed himself a small wash of relief.

He came to door 11 and placed his hand on the knob to steady for the lock but found it pushed open, having already been unlocked.

His relief was short lived as he bit his tongue in worry, Dean opened it the rest of the way, hand tense to reach for his piece but relaxed when he saw his brother's slumbering form curled on the bed, face lax of emotion and chest rising and falling steadily.

_Must have just forgotten to lock the door, the idiot. _Dean grumbled mentally to himself, shutting the door once more and flicking off the light that had been left on with a scowl.

His brother stirred slightly at the change but instead buried his face deeper into the crook of his hand which was beside his face. Dean raised an eyebrow, unsure wether to feel fondness or suspicion, his brother never slept so deeply at this time in the morning and he never saw him drink more than two beers last night, he couldn't have been drunk.

He brushed his green eyes over the room, looking for anything to either arouse or suppress his suspicions. He narrowed his eyes at his duffel and bed, the sheets seeming out of place when he hadn't even touched them along with his duffel looking more messy and open. He quickly checked that his gun was still under the pillow before letting out a breath.

Dean turned when he heard saw a white flashing from his brothers phone which lay on the table, he hesitated for a moment before walking over and opening the message, his suspicious and concerned frown turning into an open mouth pronunciation of annoyance and rage.

_Hi, Tom. Just texting to make sure you were all good from last night, you seemed a bit out of it. Hope you didn't mind the help to get to your motel. - Nathan 10:34 PM_

"Who the hell..." Dean growled.

Who the hell was Nathan? He fumed, and Sam clearly wasn't out of it enough to give a fake name...unless. Dean wondered, a cold thought disturbing his stomach.

He looked over to his still silently sleeping brother, still in his clothes and shoes and above the covers. Dean turned back and checked Sam's wallet but found nothing missing, he padded over to both duffels and went through them, still finding nothing gone, but that did little to stifle his worry.

If some random saw what was in their bags, who knows what could happen.

Not wanting to wake Sam up from probably the only good sleep he's had in days, Dean rubbed his jaw but sighed and went over, gently shaking his brother's plaid covered shoulder.

It took a few attempts to even elect a response which made Dean's sick feeling even more pronounced.

Finally his little brother stirred and Dean kneeled down, "Sam? Sammy? Come on, wake up. Beauty sleep is over."

Glazed and groggy eyes blinked unsteadily up at him, a soft groan emitting from his parted lips as Sam rolled onto his back. "D'n?"

"Yeah buddy, I need you up." He said softly, still hating how out of it his brother seemed to be.

Sam blinked and slowly focus returned to his gaze, he stretched his long body on the bed and cleared his throat, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He struggled to sit up.

"We're in the motel?" He asked, confusion matting his tired voice.

Dean swallowed, "Yes Sammy."

"Huh..." He noted, "I don't remember driving here."

Grimacing, the elder Winchester sat back on his heels, "Do you remember a Nathan?"

Sam ran a hand through his bedhead and sniffed, "Uhm, yeah. He was...the..." He trailed off for a moment, "The, bartender. Creeped me out, gave me a drink." He shrugged, still looking half asleep.

"A random bartender creeped you out and you accepted a drink he gave you? Are you brain dead Sammy?!" Dean raised his voice, though more out of concern than anger.

Sam flinched at the sudden change in tone and volume, "Thought he was just overly nice, I dunno." His face fell onto his hand as his eyelids continued to droop.

Dean leaned over and gripped his brothers arms, "Hey, hey. Do you remember anything else?"

Bleary blue eyes looked to his own and blinked for a moment, "I got somewhere with the case, Nathan talked to me. I had a drink or two, felt weird and I think I decided to go back to the motel..." He looked past him, trying to remember but gave up. "I'll try to remember later...when...tired." He slurred.

"Alright Sam but we may have to move motels or at least deal with this bitch of a casper, ok? So I need you awake and up soon."

Sam sniffed as his eyes closed and he slumped, "Why?"

"I think our spirit drugged and drove you home last night."

As Sam felt sleep crawling up on him, he heard the sentence given from his brother and allowed a feeling of shock before falling under with a short, "Damn..."

A hiss only audiblel to Sam spoke up in his head, '_I don't like him either._' Sending a short flush of heat before vanishing once more.

Dean lowered his brother back onto the pillow and undid his shoes and took off his jacket before pulling the covers over his unconscious form.

"Yeah, you could say that." He murmured then turned to start packing up their stuff.

_Damn, indeed._

_**I always aim to write at least 6 pages on my Pages app, which is ultimately 3,500+ words. I'm trying to stretch out the story more than I usually would, again not to ruin it so I hope you're not finding the chapters too short. :) but as always, good, bad, got suggestions? Tell me in a much appreciated review!**_


	4. Calm My Shaking Hands

**_Thanks again to those who reviewed! Means a lot and helps me update faster. ^^_**

**_This chapter is a bit longer but to my eyes still feels short but...you guys haven't complained so I suppose its alright. _**

**_Enjoy ^^_**

"Agents Pine and Nolan; would you mind answering a few of our questions?" Dean asked, flashing his fake FBI badge and throwing up a professional expression and stance to match.

Sam tried his best to keep up but his mind felt like it was running on half percent, he still felt groggy and knew he had another crappy sleep from a nightmare he couldn't remember.

He felt like he was missing something obvious, it was somewhere deep, like a scratch he couldn't itch but the constant memory loss was disorientating and just pushing it further away. The more he chipped at it, the more pain he had and less rest, so he tried desperately to ignore it which ultimately did nothing except allow him to come up with more lame excuses.

_Maybe I'm just sick. Maybe its just the stupid drug I was given, it seemed pretty strong._

It was a lost cause but it at least kept his mind off of actually thinking into it, instead he deflected all thoughts with excuses and pushed on. He wondered how long he could keep it up.

Waking up was better the second time around, he only remembered hazy glimpses of the first time Dean pulled him into the waking world. With bright lights and _fluffy_ outlines of shapes. Slurred voices and pretty much naught going through.

He managed to hide most of his lazed movements, shaking hands and general brain dead like attitude and posture by defending himself in an argument of Dean wanting him to stay behind while they asked about Daniel Frasier. Once his brother finally gave in and let him come, he allowed himself to slump even further.

It was to be a long day if this fog didn't lift from his head. Though on the bright side, he concluded, he hadn't heard the voice since he fell asleep.

_At least there's something._ He thought dryly and unconsciously rubbed a hand over his face, stifling a yawn.

He hadn't realised the conversation had moved along until the store owner started getting defensive, Sam forced his tired brain to work and listen.

"Hey man, I barely remember Frasier, I didn't do nothing." He bit back, hands raised as if to push them away. He was about Dean's height with sandy hair cropped to the end of his ears and dirty brown eyes.

"That's a double negative bit we're not saying you are, we just wanted to know what you know about that day, if you know anything. No one is accusing anyone of anything." Dean tried, backing up.

The man breathed out, "Sorry, sorry. I get anxious too easily, but uh. No, it was years ago man, I don't remember him much. I'm surprised I'm still working here to be honest." He scoffed.

Sam squinted, his eye sight shuddering slightly but managing to focus on his name tag. _Harry_.

"Did you know if he had any friends or enemies worth noting that worked here as well?" His brother asked, eyes glancing towards him in question since he wasn't saying anything.

This was barely noticed by Sam as his gaze drifted with Harry's reply to the quiet hustle and bustle of the store, the occasional cry of a child or laugh from a group of teens poked out of the white noise. Scowls from people looking at their shopping list and bored facial expressions as they pushed around their trolley of groceries.

He snapped out of it, realising he was wandering, forcing himself to watch the conversation, fighting the urge not to fidget or just sit on the floor and close his eyes.

"God, that's hard to remember. I think he had a friend..uh Darren, Darrel, Dallas, Derek? I dunno something like that."

Sam's head perked up at that, _Dallas_, that sounded familiar.

"How old was this..uh, his friend?" Sam finally joined in, clearing his throat.

Harry thought for a moment, "Older than Daniel but not by too much, he would have finished high school by now though, for sure. Maybe got a job, I dunno, he quit after the earthquake and well, you know." He replied, looking to Sam.

Nodding Sam glanced around, "Can you remember if they had any sort of conflict before Frasier's death?"

Harry scratched his blonde hair and closed his eyes, "Uh..." He opened them and squinted for a moment, "You realise this was like four years ago?"

Dean shrugged, "Try your best."

Scowling, he continued to ponder, "Look...maybe. I think they had a spiff a couple weeks before the earthquake but they got it sorted, I don't remember them disliking each other before Daniel died. Though they're little fight they had in the store, it seemed more personal than anything. Hell if I know. That's all I can pull from my melon." He finished, poking at his head.

Jotting down a few notes, Sam smiled, "Thanks, this has been a big help, do you mind if we take a look at the freezer used here?"

Dead panned, Harry stared at them, "The freez- you realise its completely different since the building collapsed?"

He shrugged, "Yeah but we'd like to take a look anyway."

Harry looked at them a moment longer before rolling his eyes to himself and turning around, "Whatever man, go nuts." He leaned over his counter and pulled out a key, chucking it to Dean. "The freezer is down the back isle to the right."

Smiling gratefully again, Sam nodded in thanks before following his older brother to the other end of the store.

"Dallas." He murmured.

"What?" Dean asked.

"Dallas, he said Frasier's friend might be called Dallas. Our motel owner happens to be called Dallas, seems about the right age described."

Dean frowned, weaving his way through a mother and three small children, "I don't know, you'd think the killer would leave town- plus, they were friends weren't they? What sort of friend locks you in a freezer to die?"

Lowering his voice as they walked through an isle, "Harry said they seemed to have something personal going on and you know, vengeful spirit and all? I'd say he's like that because of who killed him, not how he died."

Dean glanced to him on his left, "It'd be a little odd going up to Dallas and asking, 'Hey, did you murder your supposed best friend by any chance a few years ago?' What do you expect us to do? Plus, he saw us check into that motel looking completely unprofessional. Now suddenly we're FBI?'

Sam frowned as well, "When has that ever stopped you from questioning someone? Plus, we could say we were going incognito, no big deal."

Sighing loudly as they turned the corner to the back isle, "Fine, after we check out this freezer, we can go back to the motel we _left_ and question him."

"Thank you." He said, ignoring the pointed comment.

They found their way to the entrance to the freezer, brushing the clear flaps to the side and stepping into the small room, Sam peered around at the empty carts and stacks of boxes till he found the freezer door to the side.

Dean led the way and gripped the handle before pushing the key in and turning it till it unlocked. Looking to Sam, he pulled the door open and let out trails of white into the air before stepping into the cold isolation.

Sam followed and made sure to keep the door open even though it had an inside handle, something about being in the freezer made his mind spark and stutter with pain and what seemed like recurring flashes.

Grimacing, he put his still warm hand to his forehead and looked around the small space, metal racks with cardboard boxes of fruit and vegetables, drinks and meats lined and sat upon them with ice clinging to the rails. It was slightly crunchy underfoot with old ice and a faint _drip, drip _of water splashed through the silence.

Suddenly grateful for the constricting suits he and his brother were wearing, Sam rubbed his hands together and pulled out the EMF. Dean, having wandered around came over to watch the readings. Sam slowly moved it around the space and sure enough, spikes of activity beeped red.

"Well, definitely something here but aren't we usually thrown into a wall by now?"

"Maybe it's not here at the moment, I mean it's clearly possessing people to get sightings on other possible victims and to get to other freezers. I doubt its ever really here much anymore." Sam replied, putting the EMF away and looking closely for anything else to give hints.

"Like friendly _Nathan_ you mean?" Dean muttered before adding in a quieter tone, "I don't feel comfortable with you willingly putting yourself in a freezer."

Sighing, he shifted his gaze to his brother for a moment, "It wasn't Nathan's fault, the ghost was probably just trying to get a look and lead us off track of finding him."

"Yeah, then he probably figured out we're hunters and got even more pissed."

Deciding not to reply, Sam turned again and reached into his pocket for the small torch he had out there for this reason, flicking it on, he illuminated the dark space and better saw the smaller details.

The cold was defiantly waking him up more but with that came the headache that felt like it had been held back for hours and trying to make up for lost time. Though as his fingers started to feel numb and the pain not quite reaching its potential, he supposed much like the drug, it was keeping it as bay.

Directing the torch to one of the far racks, he tilted his head, what looked like dried blood dotted the metal rail. Sam reached out and dabbed it with his fingers but was given a shooting hot pain in return, it wrung itself up and around his arms, to his shoulder, sliding up his neck and stretching out over his skull. He tried to stifle the cry through clenched teeth but only muffled it slightly and he staggered, yanking his hand away and instead applying pressure to the source of pain.

He was vaguely aware of another presence next to him and hands gripping his arms but it was dulled out by the flashes of _cold, pain, can't breathe, tired, trapped._ Small fragments of memories that shook in front of his closed eyelids and caused a chain reaction, ending with a far off cackle from that familiar voice.

_No, no. Go away._ He thought, flinching.

"Sammy! Hey, come on Sam, that's it." Dean voice broke through and he felt the last of the hear draining from his veins, Sam blinked and watched the floor for a moment before breathing in painfully cold air that relieved his burning lungs.

Trying not to shake, Sam looked to Dean's concerned face hovering right next to him, "I'm okay." He said quietly, not trusting his voice.

"The hell you are." Dean growled.

"Honestly, just a flash headache. I'm fine. Its probably just from the drug."

Dean narrowed his eyes at him, not quite buying it, "You've been saying 'its probably just something' a lot recently. They're lousy excuses Sam."

He pulled himself away from his brother and tried a defensive glare, "Because that's all it is, trust me Dean, I'm OK."

They were silent for a while, both staring at each other and Sam daring him to say anything more until finally Dean sighed and snarled a quiet, "It's your funeral." Under his breath before turning and walking out.

Sam stood for a moment and looked back at the dried blood, he stepped closer but made no move to touch it. Looking over his shoulder, he pulled out the EMF again and pointed it towards the blood but found no readings.

_Someone probably cut their finger or something._ He guessed before stuffing back in his jacket and turning to catch up with Dean.

Relieved to be out of the cold room, he shut the door behind him and was going to lock it but found he didn't have the key, Dean did.

Looking at the closed door he shrugged before walking out and following his brother's figure some meters ahead.

Getting some warmth back into his extremities, Sam clenched and unclenched his hands as he stood back next to his brother who was thanking Harry and passing him the key.

"Come on then, lets go ask this Dallas some questions." Dean said, glancing at Sam and heading out to the impala.

Seeming like they were ok, Sam swallowed and walked out after him.

XxxxxxxxxX

The short car drive was silent apart from the ACDC music blaring through the speakers and Sam wished he could have something else distract him as he felt the oncoming headache and voice. He needed something to stifle his senses, that seemed to push away whatever it was gnawing at his head.

As if on cue, Dean spoke up, though not necessarily the conversation Sam would have chosen, "Have you been sleeping alright?"

Looking to him in surprise, he paused, "Uh, it's been alright."

Dean gave him a bitch face and Sam knew he didn't believe him but he kept at it anyway.

"Honestly. It's not that bad." At least he was half telling the truth, not remember a nightmare helps for the rest of the day and getting _back_ to sleep but since he had no clue on the actual sleep bit, he couldn't say.

"You've been restless, only when you were drugged up did you seem actually _asleep_."

"Whoa wait, you've been _watching me sleep_?"

Dean shrugged and refused to meet his gaze, "Midnight snacks and toilet breaks help me notice is all."

"Right." Sam said, disbelieving.

"Look I'm just worried, you've been a bit...out of it since I got that demon out of your head."

"Again, probably just some sort of a side effect of getting something like that out."

"I don't know man...-"

"-Look fine Dean, I'll research on it when we get back to the motel alright?" Sam cut in, giving into his brothers worry.

He nodded, seeming to settle, "Thanks."

Sighing Sam turned away to look out the window once more, they were nearly there.

XxxxxxxxX

The door tinkled quietly as they entered the motel they had recently left, no one was at the counter as Sam and Dean strode over, pulling out their fake ID's.

Dean rang the rusted bell on the desk before leaning back and looking around, "I dunno man, kill someone and then make a ratty motel business ? Doesn't seem right." He commented softly.

"Maybe it didn't start out bad? I don't know, shut up." Sam retorted and pulled him up from leaning as Dallas came out from a doorway and over to the counter.

"Oh, you two are back. How can I help you?" He asked, looking thoughtfully at their suits.

They flashes their badges and Sam spoke up this time, "Agents Nolan and Pine, we just want to ask a few questions if that's alright."

Dallas instantly scoffed, "Agents? Yeah right, you were flannel wearing boys just this morning."

Dean smiles tightly, "That's called our undercover working, now if you mind?"

The scowl was erased from the motel owners lips and he crossed his arms, "Yeah sure, what?"

"We have reason to believe you were once friends with Daniel Frasier? Is that correct?" Sam asked, putting away the badge.

Dallas instantly stiffened and he glared at the two men, "What about him?"

"Answer the question, Dallas." Dean retorted, keeping up his facade of professionalism.

Shooting a darker look towards the elder brother, he replied, "Yeah. We were friends. What of it?"

"Were you friends when he died?" Took up conversation once more and shifted on the spot, feeling the oncoming restless notion once more.

This seemed to anger Dallas further and he leaned forward, sneering in the tall Winchester's face, "What are you trying to say?"

"Asking you a reasonable question, what are _you_ trying to say?" He pushed back, managing to keep a stoic face.

Sensing his mistake, the motel owner sniffed and narrowed his eyes, "We were friends."

"Did you have any personal issues going on between you at all?"

"Maybe."

Sam furrowed his brow, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Depends on why you're asking, I don't wanna be accused for something."

"Mate you're more likely going to be accused if you don't answer the questions." Dean butted in, crossing his arms.

Dallas clenched his jaw and looked back at Sam, "Yeah, fine. We had a bit of a issue."

"Such as?"

He sighed long and hard before starting, "My parents were heavily homophobic and barely let me be good friends with any guy, so Daniel and I kept our relationship a secret, from everyone. It was alright for a while until high school got harder and we had more work, more homework and less free time to hang out. We barely talked day to day until Daniel finally said that we should post pone our relationship until things calmed down again, maybe when we finished high school because it was just too hard." Dallas took a breath and refused to meet their eyes, "I was angry but...not at him, I guess. I missed him and it was hard to even look at each other at work, when we both worked at that general store, but then a few weeks later I saw him chatting with some other guy. They were getting all close and flirty and when I later asked him about it, he said it was nothing, for me to calm down."

He shifted on the spot, "So I did, I tried to until I was putting the stores rubbish in the bins around the back and found them making out. He didn't see me so I left and a day later tried to talk to him a bit more, try and get him to come back to me again. I thought it was working, we were working better together and chatting more, I only saw that guy now and then. But when we were actually getting somewhere...well, the earthquake." Dallas finished, averting his eyes completely and scratching his neck.

Sam wasn't sure whether to give a sympathetic look or not, he glanced at Dean who also didn't seem to believe him. It felt like there was a hitch in the story.

"Did you know this guys name?"

"Uhm, Alan? I think, maybe." He shrugged, "Didn't really care to be honest." Again he glanced away.

_Sure you didn't. _

Dean cleared his throat, "That's all you can tell us?"

"Yeah...That's all." He said, confused. "Why are you asking by the way?"

Sam narrowed his eyes and watched Dallas closely as he said his next words, "There's been a string of noticeably similar murders the past four years. We decided to look into it."

Dallas gaped at him, "Oh my god, I so thought that too!"

This was _not_ the reaction the brothers were expecting and were taken aback, "Uh, good for you?" Sam, added awkwardly.

Dallas stared at him for a moment before adding, "Yeah...you look like him." Was that hostility in his eyes?

Successfully unnerved, Sam swallowed and wasn't able to force a smile, instead nodded stiffly and turning to go. Dean glared hard at Dallas and went to follow but was stopped as he spoke up once more.

"You know the police were trying to hide those stories, Tangari is a quiet town, people don't want old rivalries stirred up." It sounded more like a threat than a warning and Dean looked at him in question.

"You trying to say something?"

Dallas blinked innocently, "No, just wondering. The FBI asking around is making a screwed job of keeping those deaths quiet is all, its just curious."

"Right..." Dean replied uncertainly before walked off again, deciding he didn't trust this guy.

Sam lead the way out and even with Dean behind him, he could still feel the motel owner's eyes boring into his back.

XxxxxxxxX

Their new motel was a bit better, with cream coloured walls and a white carpet that didn't seem to have odd stains dappled on them. Shutters replaced the curtains, the beds were better maintained along with the rest of the room and it was that slight bit bigger.

Sam hadn't had much time to unpack before he was pushed into a shower and dressed into a suit, that and he was way too groggy to consider working out what goes where.

As he stepped back in to room 4 of Harrington's Inn, he could appreciate the decor a bit better now that he was awake and was glad they moved.

"I'm gonna make a beer run, want anything?" Dean asked as he replaced his FBI thread with a plaid shirt and dark jeans.

Noting how hungry he was, Sam nodded, "Ah, surprise me with something edible that isn't pie."

"You're not living man." He replied as he grabbed his wallet and room key, "I'll be back in ten."

Sam nodded again and was left in silence as the door closed, he sighed and let his body sag as he scratched with jittery fingers through his hair.

Pulling off the constricting suit, he slowly found a comfortable change of clothes and slipped them on before flopping back down on the bed.

He allowed himself a few minutes of rest before remembering he promised to research about the Rakna for Dean. Groaning, he pushed himself up and sat against the head board before reaching over and picking up his laptop.

Sam stared at the screen for a while before sucking up the courage to begin searching the internet, he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to find out if there was anything parading about in his brain.

Finally though, he typed in Rakna and clicked into the first link.

Skimming through the general introduction of the demon spirit, he scrolled down and started reading on the more detailed facts.

_The Rakna is a highly intelligent spirit that is fatal by sight, they can be seen as an endangered species as a hell creature as they tend to only live in the minds of humans and animals, and once discovered are destroyed by exorcism._

_The Rakna feed off of stimulus from the brain and once in control for over 24 hours can begin to create scenarios for the host to play out and react to, only feeding the Rakna further. It can pose as nightmares and distort the hosts sleeping habits, attacking both day and night which is why it is best to drive them out by not sleeping for a period of time._

_Rakna do not tend to communicate to its host, there are only few reasons as to why they would._

_One being that the host shows exceptional value._

_Two being if it needs to drive the host into insanity quicker, if said host is able to hold it off._

_And three is if it is personally showing the host its form or communicating for a purpose other than the two above. This reason is usually fatal to the host._

_The Rakna continue to test the cognitive function of the brain until insanity where it finishes off the host and moves onto another. This process can take days to months depending on the host. _

_When attempting to drive out a Rakna, the host must stay awake and be injected holy water into the blood stream, having a lot of salt on the foods they eat also helps. Once the Rakna is ready to be exorcised, which is known when sudden great pain comes over the host, the Rakna is purged out forcefully to hell and destroyed._

_It is usually two to three days for that of a human to go without sleep but if a Rakna is attached to something specific in the body, it can be Fake Expelled, where it matches the symptoms of being purged yet stays in the body and hides._

_These specific attachments are rare and hard to pinpoint, it can be anything from the host being a witch and it attaching to the source of power the witch holds to a curse that has branded with the body long before._

Sam stared and remembered Deans words he had said to him on the way to Tangari, "_Something about your psychic-ness...It is faint, buried deep at the bottom of his soul_."

He swallowed and quickly closed the tab, shutting the laptop and shoving it away from him.

_I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine._

He felt the familiar hissing from the _thing_ that he refused to believe was the Rakna and clamped his hands over his ears, drawing his knee's up.

Pain sliced along his spine and gripped the back of his neck from the outside, the pain felt solid again and this time he realised it was because the thing was behind him, though still tethered to his mind like an astronaut in space.

He wanted to look but remembered that it'd be fatal. He tried to swallow but found the grip was closing off his windpipe, he choked and spluttered, scrunching his eyes tightly shut and digging his knuckles into the sides of his head.

But soon he was kicking and struggling and he could 't breathe, his throat was on fire and his lungs were burning. He fell onto his back and gasped for air but when none came, it added to the panic and sent him under. Darkness swarming his already closed vision.

The pressure was released just before he fell unconscious and he sucked in air greedily, feeling dizzy as hell. Just as he was getting everything back under control, the door was unlocked and opened and he heard the familiar footsteps of his brother.

"Hey, I got you a sausage roll, the only hot food they had that wasn't pie." Dean said, shutting the door behind him.

Sam opened his eyes to slits and breathed out in relief that nothing was there, "Thanks." He managed with a steady voice.

"You alright? Find anything on that Rakna "

He didn't hesitate, "Nope, nothing."

**_Thanks for reading! Did you like it, hate it, got a suggestion to make? Tell me in a much appreciated review! :)_**


	5. Whispering and Jittering

**_Sorry for the delay guys! Crap came up and I never had time to actually sit down and focus also I've been mourning the end of Legend of Korra, so...much sadness._**

**_Also, in reply to the guest that asked when I update. I try to update at least 3 times a week, every second day. Of course, this won't always happen but I do try my best. :) (side note: if people are going to ask questions, at least be logged in so I can reply. Other wise it tends to be a bit annoying)_**

**_Anyway! Hope you enjoy this chapter~_**

"_Nope, nothing_."

Sam felt his vocal cords work and felt a surge of panic erupt through his system, he hadn't meant to say that. He didn't even plan on saying that.

The now familiar heat coursed through his veins as he felt some measure of control being taken over his body, he gritted his teeth and tried to push back against it but instantly felt dizzy, black dots splaying over his vision and blurring at the edges.

Dean visibly sagged, as if he had hoped his brother still had a problem with the Rakna, that way he knew what to do but as far as Dean now knew, it was just a bout of crappy sleep, after effects and from the tampered with beer that was ailing him.

Sam wanted to scream at his brother that he was right, there was something the matter with him but his tongue felt leaden and the muscles in his jaw seemed to be pulled tight and closed.

He never remembered reading that a Rakna could take control, though he supposed, it was a demon like spirit. Both capable of possession and the fact that it lived in the mind.

It was unfortunately, completely possible.

He sagged himself and watched as Dean pulled out his own bought food and a six pack of beers, propping them in the small mini fridge and coming back over sit.

Sam's eyes darted around, he was still capable of most things and it felt like the Rakna didn't have enough strength or power to keep a hold over his body for a long period of time, even now he felt its hold on him slackening. He pulled himself into a rigid sitting position and couldn't tell wether he did that or the creature scraping around in his head did.

Having lost all appetite and felt no longer hungry, he could tell it was the Rakna making him lean over and take the sausage roll to eat.

_Keeping up appearances then but how would it stop me telling Dean when it got too weak to control me anymore? _He pondered, nose crinkling in thought.

Though his question was answered as the painful reply racked through his skull, '_I still have general control over your pain senses and memory function, I wouldn't get too cocky, Sam_."

Grimacing, he swallowed thickly and tried to ignore how quiet his brother now was.

"So, Dallas?" Sam tried, expecting a burst of pain for managing to speak but got nothing, it seemed the thing in his head was fine with him talking about anything except it.

Dean looked up, "What about him?"

"You didn't notice that half of his story seemed-"

"Made up? Yeah. I highly doubted Dallas just walked away when he found them."

Feeling better that the tension seemed to be easing, Sam shifted out of his rigid position, regaining full control once more. He wanted to just come out and say that Dean was right, but decided to hold off for now, he'd probably get no where anywhere.

"You think he got angry and attacked Daniel?" He instead asked, forcing himself to take another bite of the warm food in his hands.

"That or went away and schemed to kill him, I don't man. We'll probably never get the truth from him but its obvious he did it."

Suddenly feeling unsure, he frowned, "I don't know. What kind of friend locks you in a freezer just because they went behind your back? Hell that happens to everyone, you don't just snap like that...he didn't even seem sad from it, more worried at being discovered."

Dean scratched a hand through his hair and blew out a breath, "You think he _didn't_ do it now?"

Sam shrugged, "I don't know...we can't just assume that he did-"

"Hold up, why are we even going on about this? All we have to do is salt and burn Daniel's bones now. Leave it at that." Dean interrupted as he finished his burger and scrunched up the bag that held it.

"You don't even want to do anything about his killer? He became a vengeful spirit, it effected him pretty bad."

"What do you imagine we can do, Sam? Just leave the son of a bitch, it'll come back to bite his ass one day." His older brother replied, finishing that side of the conversation and throwing the rubbish in the bin beside the kitchen.

Biting his lip, Sam nodded, he knew they couldn't really do anything anyway...but a man could hope.

Sighing he stretched, "Want me to find out if he was buried or cremated?"

"Good thinking, geek boy. While you start on that, I'm gonna take a shower." Dean sniffed and stood slowly, "Hate wearing those suits." He muttered, walking into the dark bathroom and shutting the door.

Left alone in the main room, Sam gripped at the bedsheets and pressed his mouth into a thin line, staring sightlessly ahead of him. He was sure he could feel hot hands poking and prodding in his cranium, each touch sending tingles of heat down his veins and a sheen of sweet to form on the back of his neck.

_All I have to do is stay awake, right? And I need some holy water...we have plenty, simple. _He tried to assure himself though barely believing his own thoughts.

'_It didn't work the first time, what says it'll work the second time around Sam_?" Came the voice within his head, pressing against his eyes and pulling at his spine.

"Go away." He hissed through gritted teeth and shut his eyes tight, willing the demon inside his head to disappear. All it managed to do though was make him extremely dizzy and he felt his body teetering forward on the edge of the bed, his stomach churned and Sam suddenly had the urge to loose what he had just consumed.

Opening his eyes to slits as the room continued to sway, he saw the closed bathroom door and groaned as the nauseating feeling threatened to overwhelm him.

Looking instead to the motel room door, he pushed himself up and nearly found himself face planting on the carpet, he gripped the wall in a white knuckled grip and staggered forward, his eye sight an uncomprehending of blurred splices of colour.

Reaching the door, he flung out a hand to grip the metal knob and steadied himself against it before twisting and pulling, stumbling outside. As soon as fresh air hit his lungs, he turned to the side and retched, the contents of his stomach emptying. Once the bout of sickness was over, he leaned heavily on the wall beside the open door and breathed heavily, the stench of vile not helping him settle his stomach.

Sam pulled himself away and back into the room, shutting the door and gingerly heading into the kitchen, feeling less dizzy than before. He focused solely on putting one foot in front of the other until he came to the sink where he filled up and glass and took small but refreshing sips.

Moaning softly, he breathed in deeply and allowed his vision and stomach to return to normal before wiping away the pattern of sweet on his face.

Though on the bright side, it seemed his mental pushing had also weakened the Rakna as he heard and felt nothing for the time being.

It was something, he conceded, even if it made him feel like absolute shit when doing it. Taking in and swallowing a deep breath he pushed himself off the grimy counter top and headed towards his laptop.

**XxxxxxxxxxxX**

A train whizzed behind him and screeched in his ear, small vibrations tingling his ankles as Sam sniffed and shoved his slight shaking hands into his jacket pockets. Dean was giving his ID a quick check before nodding to himself and heading up the few steps onto the front porch of the old house.

Sam furiously yanked his head back in the game, still feeling the tipsy after effects of trying to dislodge the spirit residing inside his head. Working on putting a foot in front of the other, he made his way over to stand to the side of his brother and resisted the urge to jump up and down and possibly run a marathon. While his body felt weary, there was also a constant and strong restless surge of adrenaline coursing through his system; he forced his body to be still bar the shifting eyes and trembling hands.

Having discovered that Daniel's body was not buried, they had resorted to heading to his mother's house to try and find an object tethering him to the waking world.

So here they were, about to knock on the door but Dean seemed to be hesitating.

The drive over to the Frasier's house was thick was silence and unspoken questions, Sam thought to try and say something while the Rakna was at least weakened but thought better of it, already having felt the presence of heat behind his eyes as he thought of it. It was a warning pure and simple and Sam had to try and remember that it still had control over recollection and pain response. But Dean was another matter entirely, he knew his older brother thought there was something up but didn't know how to go about saying it without starting on a 'chick flick' moment as his brother called it or an argument.

Sam couldn't blame him really, as he sat in the stifling silence that could have been cut with a knife, he wondered how he'd react to his brother asking what was wrong. What would he say? Dean would know if he was lying and could only deny it, making things worse.

Though speaking of the devil and back in the present, Dean had stopped trying to knock altogether and turned to Sam, "You sure you're OK?"

He tried not to swallow loudly and make it obvious that something was on his mind...or to be literal, in his mind.

"Yeah, Dean. I'm...ok." Sam replied, trailing off and looking directly at him. He had hoped he could slip in a code word that something was off but the Rakna knew generally everything he knew and it would surely never get passed. So he hoped that at least the shifty 'I'm okay' would suffice.

His facial expression however was not as strong as he'd hoped as he felt hot clutches trying to keep the muscles even. Some got through though, the demon was still down for the count. Merely an observer screaming at the screen and getting lucky.

Thankfully though, Dean narrowed his eyes and stared at him for a few beats and Sam could tell he hardly bought it. But that was progress. Now for his brother to take the bait and bloody well notice the obvious; that'd be fantastic.

"Right." Dean said slowly. "Well you let me know if...something gets too...much." It was a lousy choice of words at best but it was clear that his brother didn't really know what else to offer.

Sam's face remained almost completely passive however and just managed a nod before Dean turned and knocked on the door, clearing his throat.

Perspiration ran down in beads on the back of his neck as Sam waited, fidgeting.

The sound of approaching footsteps alerted the brothers to the oncoming presence and he tried to get his stature under control, breathing in the cool air and train fumes through his nose as the door behind the screen door unlocked and a woman in her late 40's appeared, with brown hair cut low to her shoulders, a pointed nose and dark brown eyes.

Dean whipped on a smile and flashed his badge, "Hi, Mrs Frasier is it? I'm Agent Pine, this my partner Agent Nolan. We've been investigating the yearly deaths in the town, if we could ask a couple of questions?"

Mrs Frasier didn't seem too surprised and began opening the door, "Uh yeah, sure. I thought you may be coming around."

As they stepped in in her invite, Sam frowned, "You expected us?"

She nodded over his shoulder, "Oh yeah, Dallas rang me up and told me about how the FBI and looking into the deaths. It's rather unnerving to be honest that others were killed like my Danny."

"Dallas told you?" Dean asked, though more to himself.

Frasier nodded once more as they entered a small living room, she gestured for them to take a seat and took her own, "After Danny's death, we tried to stay close to each other. Support, you know?" She explained and smiled sadly.

Sam took a seat beside his brother on the green leather couch facing Mrs Frasier, "Of course." Sam replied though gave Dean a questionable look on Dallas.

"So the reports say the murderer was never found, or suspected really. Is there anyone you could mention that was even _slightly_ off towards your son? Anything strange, any- anything at all." Dean asked, leaning forward.

She bit her lip in thought, "Every night I think about that, whenever I close my eyes..my thoughts instantly go to who could have killed such a kind soul like Danny but..." Frasier trailed off and rubbed a hand over her forehead.

"But what? You have someone in mind, or?"

Frasier sighed, "Daniel had a few friends...Dallas was one of them, high up on the list. They were best friends, in fact." She smiled, "I bet they were more but, something happened between them. I don't know...Daniel seemed distant from him for a while until...Danny's death." She shook her head, "I just, I don't know what to think, Dallas was sad, hell he was depressed. He only started going out in public more when I tried to get through to him."

Sam raised an eyebrow, already this story was different to their main suspect's; not that that surprised him much, he already felt that there was a hiccup in Dallas's story.

"So with Dallas being the only person who comes to mind, not that we'd consider him for anything without evidence, there is no one else you could think of? No other rivalries and odd friendships?"

Frasier snorted, "He didn't have the drug type friends if that's what you mean. It was just him, Dallas and a couple friends from school who he'd study him or catch up on weekends now and then but...they were hardly around near his death. I wouldn't even consider them at all."

Dean nodded, "Sure; we heard that Daniel was cremated, is there anything remaining from him? A personal possession or-"

"I kept a lock of his hair," She interrupted, unconsciously wringing her hands, "The same as I did with his father and got them put into lockets. His father was a soldier and Daniel looked up the him, it seemed only fit." She said, looking above the fireplace where two gold plated lockets hung, the initials _D.F_ and _R.F_ marking them apart.

"_R_.F?" Sam asked, sympathetic gaze being switched on.

Mrs Frasier smiled, "Richard. He died in a plane crash when Daniel was finishing Primary School, he was a pilot.."

Returning the smile, Sam let his brother take up the next question and glanced around at the photos of Richard, some with his military uniform, others with Daniel and one of him with the whole family.

"You didn't see your son hanging around with another boy after he and Dallas seemed to split?" Dean asked, trying to see how much the two stories matched.

She frowned and out a hand to her chin, "You know...I think he did but it wasn't for too long plus..they could hardly get anywhere friendship or relationship wise in the space before.." She sniffed, raw emotion finally making its way over her expression, "Well, you know."

"You didn't happen to catch a name?"

"I'm not sure...maybe it started with an A? I never really found out."

Dean nodded and smiled his thanks before standing, "Thank you for your cooperation Mrs Frasier, it's been a big help."

She raised and smiled back, "It was no problem, I hope you find the bastard killing those innocent children."

Sam could nearly have snorted at the fact she was calling her own son a bastard but kept quiet as he picked himself off the couch. Her gaze turned to him however and her smile turned more grim as Dean turned to head to the door.

"You take care now, dear." Her dark eyes fastened into his and he realised what she was getting at. Was he really so similar?

Swallowing, he nodded stiffly and followed his brother down the hallway and out the door just as another train was rattling past.

"So I guess that makes Dallas an obvious suspect, I knew his story seemed off." Sam murmured.

"Yeah, its too bad we can't gank the douche." Dean looked over his shoulder to the house, "I need to get that lock of hair."

"Come back at night?" Sam suggested, receiving a nod of agreement from his brother.

**XxxxxxxxxxX**

Sam let Dean take this B&E as he waited in the Impala, it was 2 AM and they had decided on a quick in and out, taking the hair from the locket and keep the necklace by the fireplace as not to arouse suspicion.

It felt a little bad, taking something that represented a dead person and was there to match his fathers but he supposed, it was definitely better this way.

He leaned back in his seat and waited, feeling the slight and consistent throb in his head which ultimately told him the Rakna was back in full power. He thought of pushing at it again when they got back to the motel and telling Dean but wondered how much that would actually work if it was expecting it. Even now, thinking about it, he felt heat press against his cheekbones in fair warning before sliding back into nonexistence.

Though now he felt too enclosed and decided to get out and lean against the impala where the cool air could trick him into thinking there wasn't actually anything possessing his head as the heat receded.

It couldn't be too long now surely, Sam thought, Dean had been gone a little over five minutes now, this breaking and entering shouldn't even be 10 minutes.

Looking around the dark, he felt the jitters in the hands begin again and he shifted from foot to foot as restlessness overtook his body once more.

He was too late to hear the approaching footsteps however as his feet kept crunching on the gravel, masking his enemies until he felt a sudden presence beside him.

Just as he sharply turned, a cold arm wrapped around his torso and pulled him back against an unknown body along with another hand shoving a strange smelling piece of material over his nose and mouth.

_Chloroform_. His mind registered and he began bucking, trying to get an elbow or foot into the body holding him but had not enough space and the person seemed to be almost un effected by the abuse.

His own body was beginning to slump and his mind turned sluggish much to the Rakna's annoyance, dots darker than the night before him splattered onto his vision and just as he went under a voice that riddled his skin with goosebumps whispered by his ear.

"Hiya Sam, I hope you don't mind the cold."

And then unconsciousness overtook him.

**_A bit short I know, this was more a filler chapter to lead onto the action, the parts you're all probably waiting for. I don't plan for this to be a long fanfiction by any means. I have many plot bunnies in my mind still to be written!_**

**_Anyway, you know what to do. Liked it? Hated it? Got a suggestion? Got a question? It only takes a few seconds to type it down below in a review and it helps me update faster. _**

**_Till the next chapater ~_**


	6. Burning Cold

**_Here we have another chapter! Though I felt disappointed with how this turned out and no matter how much I read over, added or deleted, did it seem to get any better. So, I hope _****you****_ guys find it alright, maybe its just me. Haha. Remember to leave a review at the end, tell me your much appreciated thoughts! Enjoy ~_**

Strange enough, it wasn't the cold that woke him, it was instead how much trouble breathing was starting to become. Sam groaned through a throbbing head and blinked unsteadily, dank light coming to greet him which was about the only good thing in the situation. At least it wasn't bright enough to make his headache even _worse_.

Feeling stiff and tight like his body had been wound up and stuffed in a small enclosing, which was nearly correct, he tried to stretch out but only managed to move his numbing legs and goose bump laced torso. Grimacing in both discomfort and confusion, he tried to blink away the gunk from his eyes and looked down.

His hands were bound behind his back in what felt like plastic, he sighed, a zip tie. Though by sighing, it also raised another problem which was what had woken him up. A gag was tightly wound around his head and in his mouth, making breathing from the mouth difficult along with having a pretty much blocked nose from the cold.

The cold. He raised his aching head again and peered around before sagging in defeat at noticing where he was.

_A freezer_. He thought sourly. _Great_.

The effects from the chloroform had more or less vanished, leaving only grogginess and a thready headache beat that continued to drum around the back of his head. Grunting with exertion at trying to move his freezing limbs, he tried to get to his knee's and at least stand up and find a way out of his bonds.

As he struggled, he noticed the freezer door had of course, no handle inside, though this was odd as Sam was sure he'd been here before and most freezers _did_ have handles now days. Squinting at it further, it became clear that the handle had been broken off, the remains of it sticking out bluntly from the side of the door.

Seeing an opportunity though, he pulled his body up using the wall as a support before gingerly taking a step forward on jelly like legs and numb feet. It was an unsteady step and his balance seemed to be teetering but he pushed on, focusing entirely on the task at hand and getting over to that door.

He was halfway there when a violent shiver racked his body and he tilted sideways, crashing into half empty racks which clanged loudly against the ice covered wall and echoed through the small space. Sam hadn't fallen though and leaned heavily against the rack for a moment before carefully straightening again and continuing without any more faults.

Upon reaching the door, he stood for a long moment and closed his eyes, trying to listen for other signs of life. Not that he could probably do much to alert them. Though after finding none he guessed it was most definitely still rather late at night and there was no one in the store. Swearing a muffled curse under his breath he turned his attention to the remains of the neck of the door handle poking out from the door and tilted his head.

_That could work._ He thought before turning around and finding it again with his worryingly numb fingers before working the zip tie up and down on the point.

Being a zip tie, he knew it could take a while, plus it was extremely tight and constantly moving it just made it cut deeper into his flesh, earning the feeling of something warm dribbling down.

At least _something_ was warming his hands even a tad, he considered rather morbidly and continued his strenuous task.

More shivers began to rack his body and he forced himself to go faster, needing to move around sooner rather than later. Sam looked down again and saw that two of his three layers had been taken, leaving him clad in only a plaid shirt and jeans, his boots taken as well.

_Damn_.

Gritting his teeth against the dirt tasting cloth in his mouth, Sam tried to ignore the painful feeling of cold that pulsed through his skin every second in rhythm to his heart, instead focusing on anything warm. Baths, fireplaces, coffee, beds.

It helped, if only a tiny bit and he felt the zip tie beginning to weaken under the pressure of the blunt tip from the door handle.

Knowing he really needed to start trying to get warm as another bitch of a shiver coursed its way through his body; he took as deep a breath he could, which wasn't much considering and was beginning to make him dizzy, he yanked up _hard_ with the zip tie and let out a muffled cry of pain as it came free, but not before ripping into his wrists even further and drawing rivets of blood.

Pulling his hands out from behind him and furiously rubbing them together, he grunted in further pain at his strained shoulder and arm muscles. Flexing and tightening his fingers and knuckles, he rubbed them against each other and held them under his armpits for a few minutes until he felt some feeling in them before reaching behind his head to undo the painful knot keeping the gag in place.

His fingers kept fumbling and he wasn't able to get enough strength into them to pull at the knot, shouting another muffled curse he gave up and instead tried to pull it out and down. It was extremely tight and made for nails getting caught in skin and marring his cheekbones with bloodied scratches but finally he was able to pull the gag from his mouth and down his chin so it hung around his neck.

Stumbling back and leaning on the door for support, he took in gulping breathes, finally able to breathe properly and fully. Sam gave himself a few moment to recover from the dizziness before pulling himself up again and beginning to jump up and down.

It was clumsy at first and his feet kept slipping from his tired legs but soon he was feeling some blood flow back into his limbs. His throat felt raw and dry and he coughed harshly, sniffing and walked back over to the door before pounding away at it. No harm in trying.

"Hey! _Hey_! _Dean_? Anyone there?" He yelled as loud as his lungs and throat would allow but only cold silence returned to answer him.

Kicking the door in frustration, he turned and continued to jump up and down, do star jumps and jog from front to back, anything to keep blood flow and some heat inside.

_Dean would have returned from the B&E not long after I was taken...so it shouldn't be too long until he finds me, right?_

But Sam was frowning and didn't believe his own thoughts, for one, he had expected Dean to be the one to throw him in the freezer, having been possessed since that's what happened to all the other victims.

Sam stopped.

Maybe it _was_ him though. His frown deepened as he thought, he had been pretty out of it by the time the person said something and Dean was taking longer than expected to come back to the car. There was every possibility it had been him. And the more he thought about it, the more he was sure the voice he heard was familiar.

Sam swallowed and slumped for a moment, that either meant Dean was still possessed by Daniel or he was made sure to keep out of the area to let him freeze to death. Either way, Dean most likely wasn't coming for him.

His frown turned into a glare as he started up his exercises once more, _No, Dean is probably possessed and he's strong willed enough, he can fight it. I _am_ getting out of here. _

He breathed in the chilling air once more, the cold flaring up in his nostrils and nearly throwing him off balance with both pain and discomfort. After a few more minutes of the exercises and he was barely breaking a sweat, he wished for heat which he instantly winced at; expecting some sort of hot pain to clock him sideways in greeting but nothing came.

His movements slowed as he went into deeper thought, the Rakna hadn't made any appearances and Sam wondered why this would be, surely it'd be taking advantage of the stimulating situation that was honestly causing him a fair amount of fear but so far nothing-

Then it hit him and he suddenly felt stupid. The demon had been like this the last time he was in the freezer with Dean, dulled somehow and again when he had been drugged.

_There isn't stimulation in this, at least not in the correct form. The cold numbs the body and the mind, much like the drug, which would ultimately force the Rakna away as long as it was kept up, it can't survive without stimulation._

He would have smiled, if the situation wasn't so dire, he had a way to inform Dean of his predicament and to possibly get rid of it. If drugs and cold dulled it, he just had to have something like that consistently going while he stayed awake and ingested holy water, then the demon should be ridden of.

Though it appeared that while the Rakna was severely dulled for the time being, it wasn't completely helpless and in what seemed like fury, Sam felt boiling hot claws dig around his arms and a scalding breath beside his ear, but instead of screaming at him that he'd _never get rid of it,_ the Rakna instead hissed, "_You've seen this before._"

Sam whirled as the heat was vanquished from his body, to try as see what this presence looked like even though that was probably an externally stupid idea; but the spirit was already gone, probably too disabled now to do anything else.

_You've seen this before._ The words repeated in his head and he frowned deeply. Had he? He looked around and slowly the confused creases marring his forehead lifted as shifty flashes obscured by bright lens flare like lights crisscrossed his vision in double time.

_Cold, cold, cold. Can't get out. Trapped._

He swallowed heavily and tripped backwards, hitting the wall and sliding down as the headache hugged tightly to his crown. Sam hit the floor and brought his knee's to his chest, pushing his hands into the space where his thigh and abdomen met.

_I've been here before? No, no. I've _seen_ this before._

Sam's dream exploded outwards in his line of sight, seeming less like a dream and more like a-

_No, nope. Impossible. I don't have those anymore. _But his stubborn protests to himself did little to stifle the repeated word now rattling his head.

_Vision, vision, vision._

He gritted his teeth as the headache slowly lessened and let the cold jump back in, he needed to stand up and move around dammit. He forced himself into more star jumps while he mulled over how having a vision could be possible anymore, the yellow eyed demon was dead, his psychic abilities with it- but then again...

"_It is buried deep, at the bottom of his soul._"

The Rakna had told Dean that, and it was tapping into its power source which would, at his best guess, awaken the ability again- albeit forcefully and for its own control over.

"Why would it tell me..?" He wondered aloud through wheezing breaths, he was unfortunately answered though and could have smacked himself for it.

"_By thinking over it, you remembered the vision I forced upon you, therefor allowing me a great deal of stimulation. At first, I was what you human's would call, 'a bit trigger happy' with the access to such an ability and impeded your dreams with them_."

Its voice felt like it was searing his ears from the inside out and Sam fought back a cry as he replied, "That was you...with the near car crash and...the lightning. But why-"

"_Its all tucked away in there, all horrible death's you could suffer are there, just buried under so you'd never find them. And they're all focused on you since the rest of the psychic children are gone...I just decided to make it known to you, benefiting me by gaining more stimulation process and saving your life so I have more time to...reside in this rather magnificent head, if you will. Did you know that if I can get enough of this savage power, I could be a psychical form_?"

It continued on in what felt like a confident drawl until Sam was sure his ears were bleeding but he bit the inside of his lip and kept up with the exercises, trying to ignore how panicked he now felt. He almost felt _violated_ some how, his old curse that got his mother killed had been yanked back for some other monster's purposes and kept him alive just so it could have _more_ of it.

Sam wanted to punch something, he wanted to yell and scream that he never asked for this, that it wasn't fair but he instead replied in a stony voice, "Why would you want a physical form? I thought Rakna's were fatal to any eye. You'd kill yourself if you looked in a reflection. What's the point?"

He wasn't sure if he even wanted the answer, he could feel the dread in his stomach filling up and pushing his heart to this throat.

"_Oh no, not that kind of psychical form but I can improvise much like a regular demon can, it's just much more rare for Rakna's as we are not provided with the strength to possess. We have to steal it_."

Blood was definitely running from his nose now and his throat up to his ears felt singed but oddly enough, that was the least of what Sam was worried about as he caught on to what the demon was getting at and shook his head in violent protest.

"No. No, you're _not_ possessing me!" He near but yelled.

"_I've already done it at least to a minor scale before. I'm stronger by the day. I don't believe you have much of a choice Sam_."

The heat from its voice began receding, indicating that it was going back into hiding but Sam still snarled out defiance, "I will pull you out before you get another chance, you hear me? I will _rip_ you out."

But his rage was soon tarnished as another shiver rattled his limbs and he slipped on the icy floor and stumbled, falling and whacking his head on a metal rack before his body hit the ground, going limp. With eyes closed, body still and a sluggish stream of blood running down the back of his head on a freezing cold floor, his subconscious could really only hope Dean was able to break free and regain control because Sam was sure as hell he wasn't getting out in his own anymore..and he really needed to tell Dean before it was too late.

**XxxxxxxxxxX**

Sam wasn't sure how he woke up, he expected to be possibly dead by now or in some sort of a coma but both were proved wrong apparently and he blinked groggily, cheek resting uncomfortably on the cold floor. Shivers were racking his body like convulsions, there were little to no breaks between them and he tiredly tried to rub in some feeling to his arms.

He couldn't feel his feet and his vision seemed to be impaired, it was hazy and everything felt out of body from being so numb, his tongue was dry and stuck to the roof of his mouth, his ears felt like cotton balls were stuffed in them and he could barely keep his eyes open.

It was severely difficult to move, his bones could have been ice for all he knew and he still couldn't figure out what had woken him up.

Shifting his head lazily to the side, his sight wavered and a blurry figure stood over him; Sam squinted and found that it was _him_. It kneeled beside his face, wearing a cruel sneer upon its lips but it's eyes were what accelerated his thready heartbeat, dark red rimmed the irises and were slowly drawn in to colour them whole.

"Guess I won, Sam." It replied with a familiar voice that sent warm shudders through his spine.

Sam blinked and found that the Rakna version of himself was gone, he closed his eyes again hard and tried to take a steady breath.

_Hallucinations. Just a hallucination. _

But it was hardly something that relieved him, that just told him he was near the end of the cycle of dying from hypothermia.

_I'm still shivering though, that's a good sign. My body is still trying to warm itself up, I still have some time._

But as he opened his eye's again and frost tried to cling them together, another hazy image of someone else had appeared in the freezer by the door with its arms crossed. Dean.

"You just couldn't stay in the car could you? You had to go out and get yourself in this mess. Now I have to deal with your death...but I suppose that's alright, never wanted you anyway."

_Just a hallucination, just a hallucination._

His violent shivers were beginning to die down as he lay on the floor, unable to raise his head. Everything sounded muffled and under water, he blinked heavily and fought to stay awake, focusing on his dire urge to pee.

There was _something_ in the background of silence, a constant thump, he had put it down as his heartbeat but now it seemed erratic and louder, with also another strange sound to accompany it.

Ignoring the fading hallucination of his brother, he fought to hear what it was and with sickening realisation heard a familiar voice yelling.

"_Sammy!_ _Sam_! Come on buddy, I need you to _not_ be dead and stay awake for me, okay? _Sammy_? Please, are you there? Sam? I'm getting this door down...hold on alright Sammy!"

_Dean, oh thank god Dean!_

The thumping on the door ceased for a few horrible moments until it was replaced with louder, heavier clanging and he sighed in relief and hoped it wouldn't be too late.

Sam opened his mouth to try and reply but his throat was too dry and sore, he cleared it and tried his best to moisten it up a bit before saying, "D'n." It was way too quiet and husky and he cursed silently to himself.

Taking a few breathes as he vision swayed and faltered, he guessed he was concussed which was just great, and tried again. "_Dean_..." He groaned, successfully louder this time.

The banging halted for a moment. "Sam?"

"Dean..." He replied, feeling sleep pulling away at him, talking was hard. It was also then as he closed his eyes again that he realised he wasn't shivering anymore.

"Sammy? Thank god, hang on for me alright! Don't you _dare_ go to sleep!" Dean yelled back through the door. "I've nearly got this open, bastard took off the handle on this side too."

He yanked his eyes back open, keeping them to hesitant slits that _really_ wanted to just close but he kept them open, for Dean, for his brother.

_But if I die...then the Rakna will never have the chance to possess me. And if and when it does I could hurt Dean...I could kill him. Lots of people._

His wary mind was putting up a fight for him to just close his eyes and he whimpered, wanting nothing more than to just do that.

An ear shattering bang caused him to jolt as the door crashed to the floor and something was thrown onto the ground, followed by hasty footsteps coming over and oh god, warm hands rested on his face.

"_Sammy_! Hey, good job Sam, good job. Just keep those eyes open for me huh? I'll get you outa here, you'll be fine Sam, you'll be fine." Dean's words brought Sam massive relief, no matter how full they were of concern and disbelief.

But he still had to tell him something...what was it again? Sam frowned as his hearing dulled once more and he blinked heavily, eyelids drooping as he body was pulled up into something warm.

_Had to tell...Dean._

_Gotta tell Dean_

_There's a thing...head._

With all the remaining strength he could muster, he reached out and grabbed Dean's wrist and tried to look him in the eye. "Dean.."

"Shh, Sammy. Try not to talk." Dean replied as he began pulling him off the ground that didn't seem so cold anymore.

"No, no..._Dean_!" He slurred frantically, whacking him tiredly.

His older brother paused for a moment, "Sam?"

"There's...there's." Sam forced his tongue to work, just for a little longer and coughed, trying again, "My head."

Dean frowned, "Yeah, you banged it up a bit-"

"No...in..head, _god_!" He tried before a slice of boiling hot pain tore itself up his torso, he cried out and his knees buckled.

"Whoa! Hey, hey." Dean spluttered, catching his brother and hefting him up again before turning to get out of the freezer. "What do you mean Sammy?"

Breathing became a strenuous effort as his lungs felt like they were being constricted with _fire_, he gasped and choked and wheezed before throwing out an urgent, "In my head, _D'n_! You were right, there's..._ugh_! _Christ_! Something in my _head_!"

The pain became too much to handle and he nearly toppled all together by the time they were out of his freezing cold prison, he screamed into his brothers shoulder and clutched on for dear life as heat stabbed into him from everywhere.

"I was right? What do you- _Sammy_!" He pulled Sam into the actual store before letting him onto the floor and trying desperately to aid his writhing brother.

"In your head? What do you mean- oh. _Oh_!" Dean finally grasped what his sibling was babbling urgently on about and looked him in the eye, as if he would be able to see the tormentor in his brothers head. But instead of finding some evil being possibly growling at him, total fear and pain gazed back at him and his heart wrenched in half.

"Dean- Please!" Sam cried.

Dean bit his tongue until he tasted blood and picked up his brother once more, heading as fast as he could to the shop entrance but never quite made it as Sam's arm flung out and hit him square in the nose. He skidded to a stop and stumbled, his grip of Sam faltering as he swore.

"Gah, Sam please I need to get you of here." He groaned before looking back up, at his brother who was surprisingly standing in his own two feet. "..Sammy?"

His eyes were set hard into him before they rolled and he started to fall, Dean dived forward to catch him before he hit to floor and frantically patted his cheeks, trying to wake him up. "Come on Sam, not now, not like this. I burned the bitch, you're safe now! Come on, wake up! Sam!"

Eyelids fluttered and soon a pair of eyes looked back up at him, glazed and glassy, but there was something _off_ about them and sure enough, under closer inspection, Dean found that both irises were outlined with dark red that could almost have been a trick of the light.

"D'n." Sam mumbled. "_Help me_."

And before Dean could reply or move another muscle, his brother arched his back in pain, a blood curling scream breaking the silence in the store until he suddenly went completely limp.

**_There you have it, a meam cliffy for you all! I hope this chapter was good as I still felt extremely unsure about it. I cut out a huge chunk near the end too but I am certain it was better without it. So like usual, please review in the box down below. It only takes and a few seconds and can make my day and push me into writing more quicker._**

**_Thanks and till next time! ~_**


	7. Sleeplessly Embracing You

**_So sorry again for making you guys wait! But Christmas celebrations and New Years got in the way and set me back a few days. Happy New Years and a late Merry Christmas xD_**

**_Also, with the whole shit going on in Tumblr, its bloody horrible and I hope those anons get the punishmentnthey deserve. Stay safe guys x_**

**_Without further redo, here's chapter 7._**

**XxxxxxxxxX**

It was extremely strange.

That was the only way Sam could put it as he lay there, feeling but then also not feeling the things around him and his own body. He'd been possessed before but this was just _weird_.

Everything was in high definition, the erratic beating of his heart as if he'd been shocked; which he probably sort of had been. The pins and needles in the tips of his fingers and toes, the sweat clinging to his forehead and the back of his neck and the burning sensation on the heels of his hands. It was all in perfect clarity, yet still feeling disjointed, to the point where each pulse from his heart was more like a jolt, and white silence and the sound of blood rushing filled his ears.

His eyes were still closed snd while he could feel evlate Crything, he couldn't quite seem to grasp hold of his own limbs. The disjointed, unconnected feeling made him even further confused, or more so frustrated, it was difficult not to yell in annoyance at feeling everything part of him and but being able to do anything with it.

Stranger even, he couldn't hear Dean or anything else for that matter, just his own ragged breathing that- to anyone else, was most likely near impossible to hear.

His body had seemed to shut down once the Rakna took hold, clumsy as it was, it still managed it but not without excruciating pain and exhaustion on the host. So here he was, just laying here pretty much waiting for his life to be taken from him.

_But surely I have some sort of an advantage, the demon wasn't fully ready to take over. It has to be weak. _Sam considered and allowed a small flame of hope to kindle before he took a sudden breath.

His ears popped harshly and the rest of his senses came in, he felt the cold shop floor beneath him and his upper body being cradled by his brother who seemed to be trying to wake him up.

Sam wanted to stir and blink and reassure him but he just couldn't and continued to be immobile while the pins and needles curled and coiled up around the rest of his muscles and his lungs slowly stopped burning.

"Sammy? Hey, come on man." Sam wanted to wince at the angst in Dean's voice but felt paralysed to do so. "We gotta go, I got you out." Dean's voice cracked by the end and Sam clenched his fists.

_Wait_. He thought. _I_ did _that_.

He blinked and opened his eyes, expecting a sudden reaction from Dean but when none came he frowned and turned his head to the side before gaping. _This is weird._

Sam sat up and sure enough, he had come out of his own body.

_I guess that explains the out of body feeling. _

Craning his head around to peer down at his _real_ body, the solid, unmoving one, he frowned further. The Rakna had knocked him out of his own body while it took over? What did that mean for him?

He looked up at Dean instead, who's eyes were shining with the tell tale sign of tears and continued to look down at his now possessed body and tap his face, shake him gently, anything to wake him up.

Not liking the look of him sitting in his own body, he scooted over and to the side of it, looking down at himself and noting it was _really goddamn strange_. There was nothing there exactly, except to him, there was, his mind was just having a difficult time comprehending it. A faint, almost invisible blur outlined the edges of his limbs and torso, like the look of gas in the air. Wavering but see through and almost not quite there.

_Huh._ Was all he could really think until the feel of a hand on his cheek, cold and still detached feeling, brought him out of his thoughts. He raised a hand to where it would be but found nothing and instead looked back at his solid body where Dean was tapping his face. "Come on, they'll be opening soonish Sam and carrying you out of a store meant to be closed while pedestrians are around doesn't sound so good."

He felt the slight shake from his brothers hands and grimaced, he didn't like it. He didn't like this.

"Dean." He tried, not hearing his own voice but feeling the vocal cords move. There was no response and no change from his body on the floor.

Sam leaned forward and reached out a hand to touch Dean's shoulder, he couldn't feel it but he didn't go _through_ it either. The skin between his neck and shoulder rippled with goosebumps and a slight shiver passed through Dean's body.

To his surprise, Dean looked up and glanced around quickly as if wary of being watched and shifted, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling and sudden chill.

"Dean!" Sam tried again, louder this time and his face fell when still nothing was given in reply and Dean looked back down at his docile body.

Though the body didn't stay docile for much longer as his face pinched slightly as he stirred, _god this feels weird_, Sam thought. Being able to feel everything from his real body but not actually being in it was just...beyond surreal and strange.

"Sam? Sam! Hey, come on sleeping beauty time to go." Dean said, renewed hope in his voice that made Sam cringe.

_I'm right here not there. That's not me Dean._ He wanted to yell and shout in warning but instead rocked back on his heels in defeat.

The Rakna possessing his body blinked open its eyes, the irises still rimmed with the strange colour but seeming more intense.

Sam waited for his brother to dodge away and possibly threaten the thing using his body but he just stayed and looked on in concern.

"Sam..Hey, Sammy. You okay?" Dean asked hastily; Sam could tell there were possibly a million questions on his brothers mind but he was trying to keep it calm and collected.

He focused then on the Rakna's response, would it throw Dean into a shelf? Smile cunningly and tell him who he was or just run for it.

The option he didn't think of however ended up being the answer and his stomach dropped, chest constricting in what felt like cold hands trying to squeeze out his heart.

"What? No..no I'm fine." The Rakna replied before rubbing a shaky hand over it's face, "I think."

Sam glared with all the hatred he could muster, "You _bitch_." He snarled and for a fleeting moment thought he saw a reaction in it's face but it was gone before he could be sure.

"You _think_? Sam you passed out on me, for ages, after being locked in a freezer for about two god damn hours. How are you not...not effected by that anymore?" Dean asked, voice shaking in disbelief and relief at the same time as he helped _not_ Sam to sit up.

The Rakna made a show of stifling a groan and shrugged, "I'm not sure...maybe-"

"Was it the demon bitch inside your head? You told me about it before you went all haywire." Dean sighed then, "Why didn't you tell me before?"

Sam looked back and fourth between the conversation, feeling despair with every reply. How could Dean be believing it?

The Rakna shook its head tiredly, "I think it...fixed me almost-"

"Almost?"

"Well...it didn't want me dead yet now did it? I'm sure it must have done something..." It lifted his head to look at Dean, "And I couldn't tell you, it wouldn't let me. Plus..I uh, only just found out like a day ago." It sat up straighter and leaned against the shelf behind him.

_I will rip you limb from limb. _Sam growled, wishing his glare could burn through and possibly cast the Rakna in flames.

Dean's gaze narrowed and Sam looked on with hope, _Come on Dean. That's not me._

"Where is it now?" He asked skeptically.

"Gone." It replied, not looking away.

"What do you mean, _gone_?"

"I mean gone, Dean. I managed to get it out, it's probably wandering around now, it won't survive long enough to get inside someone else."

Sam bit his non existent lip and came around to squat beside Dean, placing his hand once again on his shoulder, "Dean, please."

A small furrow found its way on his older brothers face and he seemed to stifle another shiver but he wouldn't turn his head and Sam sighed.

"How did you manage to get it out? Doesn't it require a whole...I don't know, proceeder that clearly failed the last time we did it."

"It managed to stay because of my psychic abilities right? So I got it out _using_ them. I dunno...since the demon spirit...whatever, 'woke them back up' if you will, I had some ounce of control over them and just...shoved it out."

Dean raised his eyebrow, looking conflicting, "What does that mean, you can-"

"No, Dean. I can't use them again, not anymore since its gone. It's back to being buried in stone, just how we both like it." The Rakna stretched it's body and winced, "I'd like to get off the questionable sticky floor though."

He snorted and stood, bending over to help the Rakna up too but froze and stared at it for a moment before pulling back, "What's that?" Dean asked, suspicion once again edging his voice.

Sam looked up in anticipation, _come on, come on._ He stood up beside his brother and waited for the revelation to unfold.

The Rakna frowned, "What's what? Dean?"

"Your eyes, there's something up with them."

It rolled its eyes and pulled itself up on its own, holding onto the shelf tightly for support, "Well I can hardly see it now can I?"

Dean stood for a moment before glancing around, his green eyes passing right through where Sam was until he found whatever it was that he had been looking for. Stepping over and _through_ Sam, he paused afterwards as goosebumps were visible along the whole of his flesh. He appeared to clench his knuckles against the onslaught of yet another shiver and continued onwards before picking up a silver table spoon from a shelf holding cutlery and coming back over; deliberately skipping around where Sam was.

_Come on Dean, surely you're not that stupid. He thought sourly, sagging and slumping his shoulders._

The elder Winchester turned the spoon over and flashed it in front of the Rakna's face, who squinted at the curved reflection.

"Huh." Was all it replied.

"Huh? What the hell is it because to me it looks like some sort of possession sign." Dean growled, eyeing the intruder possessing his brother's body warily.

The Rakna faltered and blinked, "What? Dean, it's me! I'm sure this is like..some sort of-"

"After effect? Yeah you've been saying that a lot lately." Dean dropped the hand holding the spoon and chucked it to the side, landing inside where Sam's spectral foot was. He grimaced. He didn't hurt of course but god it was odd.

The demon raised its hands, "Calm down Dean, maybe it is alright? Some sort of a..a scar."

"A scar?" Dean repeated, clearly not believing a word.

It shrugged, "Well think about it. It lives in the mind and looks out through the hosts eyes, a normal demon leaves a type imprint on its vessels soul, maybe this is the same sort of thing. How am I supposed to know?"

Sam snapped his head to his brothers face, calculating his reaction. _Don't you dare believe a word it's saying Dean!_

But his brother appeared to be considering it and was clenching and unclenching his jaw before narrowing his eyes and pulling a packet of salt out of his pocket. He held out a hand, "Give me your arm."

"What?" It frowned.

"Give me your arm!"

The Rakna sighed but reached out and allowed his wrist to be gripped and salt to be sprinkled onto it. Nothing happened. It raised its eyebrow, "Happy?"

"Make it ingest it Dean, it needs to _ingest_ it!" Sam yelled in Dean's ear, having stood behind and to the right of him. It seemed to have some effect as Dean flinched ever so slightly, not releasing his grip on the Rakna's wrist.

Dean eyed the thing before him for a long while before releasing his hold, "Wait there." He ordered and turned to look about the shelves once more, his back turned.

Sam watched him for a moment before looking back at the demonic spirit possessing his body and to his surprise, it was staring right at him. As their eyes met, a twisted, lopsided grin cracked its features and its eyes flashed a dark hue of red. Sam glared daggers back, "Dean's not going to believe you." He snarled.

The Rakna merely shrugged before returning to it's acting-as-Sam mode when Dean picked up what he was looking for an isle down and came back over.

In his right hand he held a small pot with what Sam guessed was an iron handle, Dean held it up and broke off the handle from the cheap metal of the pot before gesturing for the Rakna to once again hold out its arm.

_Damn, I can't remember if iron works or not. _Sam bit his lip and watched, both dread and anticipation causing his fingers to curl.

"Dean, come on. Is this really necessary?" It asked, exasperated.

He shrugged casually in response, "Unless you have some reason to not want to be touched with some harmless iron..." Dean trailed off, the rest understood in a pointed look.

It held out its arm in silent response and watched as the iron came into contact with its skin, nothing happened to _it_ but Sam suddenly went reeling and an inhuman screech tore out of his chest as he felt his apparition being flung meters across the store.

Dean swung around at the sudden breeze of cold and near inaudible cry that echoed, sounding miles away. "The _hell_ was that?"

Sam gasped as he lay on the floor, feeling his form flickering in and out of what he assumed was some sort of a veil. He clawed at the ground for purchase on reality while the sudden pain subsided; being able to just make out his brothers words.

"Maybe it was the Rakna...I mean it's still wandering around but it'll soon die off." It replied, tinging its voice with unease.

Dean whirled back to face it, "Who says it won't just go and possess some other poor bloke, or _you_ again?"

The demon shook its head, "It can't, it's too weak to attach a bond to a host now. It'll probably die off within a day if that."

"Son of a bitch..." The elder Winchester ran a hand through his hair, "So what...it's still got some sort of freaky ass remnants from you in it, that's why it-"

"Reacted to the iron, yeah I guess. I mean, I can research on it later it you want."

"Dude, quit finishing my sentences." He replied, raising a hand.

Sam pulled in a breath and opened his eye's again and sighing in relief as his connection to the real world stayed stable. He began to get to his feet but in a blink he was already there, not needing psychical use to do it. "Huh.." He murmured appreciatively, "Cool." And made his way quickly back over to his brother and the Rakna.

Any relief he felt was suddenly ditched away when he saw that Dean seemed to be much more comfortable around said demonic spirit and Sam sagged, closing his eyes. _Damn it all to hell._

'_That can be arranged_.' A familiar voice spoke in his head, though there was no longer pain companying it and the voice was instead his own.

His eyes snapped open and he looked to his possessed body, it flicked it's eyes to him briefly- a cold, cruel look before flicking back to Dean who was kicking the iron handle under a shelf and turning to pick up his gun that he had dropped when carrying Sam.

Feeling suddenly enraged, Sam stormed over to the Rakna and gripped his hand around it's throat, his lips quirked in success when it jolted and pain etched over it's features along with violent goosebumps and a sudden shiver racking his body. _Karma bitch._

Sam slammed the possessed version of himself into the shelf behind and tightened his grip, effectively choking it. It felt strange once more, feeling pressure on his neck and none existent windpipe but feeling no choking or painful effect from it.

"_Gah_! Jesus-" It swore, gagging. Sam's smile grew, almost mimicking the twisted one the Rakna had given him earlier.

Dean looked up sharply and straightened, "Sammy?"

For a moment, Sam relaxed his grip in relief, thinking his brother had finally saw him but when he turned to look at said brother he noted that his panicked gaze was on the Rakna he was currently choking. Not him.

A fresh wave of despair washed over him and he wanted to cry but this spectral apparition of him wouldn't allow it, Sam then gritted his teeth and pushed harder instead, his grip around the Rakna's neck tightening further.

Dean quickly seemed to fumble with his pocket until he pulled out the packet of salt again, his green eyes fixed firmly on the space in front of the Rakna. Sam noticed this and stilled, eyes lowering at his body and found that he appeared much more visible, like a wavy, distorted shape in the air.

"...Dean." He said, trying not to let his voice crack.

His brother hesitated for a moment, staring at the shape in wonder, Sam could see the shine of uncertain familiarity in his eyes until the Rakna gasped out a desperate, "_Dean_." And his brother's face hardened before he threw a handful of salt towards him.

The pain was sudden and really unnatural, it felt disconnected and like nothing he had experienced. It was oddly enough a mild sort of pain that still yet managed to infiltrate his spectral being and release out an ungodly scream that sounded nothing like him. He felt himself torn and throw away, the world blackening and spinning and he was rebounding against the walls and racks, trying to hold onto the real world desperately, not wanting to fall into a veil of some sort.

As he crashed into the far wall of the store, he noted with a depressing thought how pissed off he sounded and how not human he felt after being hit with salt.

Salt, of all things. He had been reduced to a flailing, screeching spirit trying to kill something.

Sam lay there, feeling something pulling him away into a void of darkness and incomprehensible white noise. _Does this make me some sort of a monster? Something people hunt? For how long? _

He allowed the thoughts to over take him, feeling as if he deserved it until his brothers voice broke through, coming from near the front of the shop. "Sammy- hey, Sam. Come on kiddo, you're alright. There we go."

That was enough to send him over the edge and into the awaiting veil to pick him up from the real world.

**XxxxxxxxxX**

Sam blinked and jolted at suddenly being able to see again and hear normal sounds that weren't cries and cackles of other ghosts and spirits. He _had_ been able to see in the veil but now that he thought about it, it seemed too difficult to sift through and understand what it was that he even saw.

_That must mean I'm at least still part human right? Ghosts and spirits are able to remember the veil, aren't they?_ He wondered, chewing his lip before actually looking around at where he was.

The familiar rumble of the impala's engine elected a small smile to form, it was a safe sound, a comfortable sound. He noted he was in the back seat behind the Rakna and Sam couldn't help but look into the rear view mirror and feel nauseated once more at seeing nothing; though as he turned his head slightly there _seemed_ to be almost a flash of something, like the thing you thought you saw in the corner of your eye.

_So that's all I am, some thing in someones peripheral vision that is pushed aside as not really being there. Great. Well that or some monster my brother wants to salt and burn._ He sniffed in annoyance at the thought and tried not to make himself noticeable, not wanting another encounter with being blasted away.

_I'm just some_ thing _in the backseat._

Sam froze in sick realisation.

**XxxxxxxxxxX**

Sam leaned against the wall in the corner of the motel room, arms crossed and eyes narrowed as he watched the Rakna easily use his body and trick his brother, who seemed to be believing it. He would have scoffed but didn't want to give the spirit any more triumph over him, smug bastard.

Dean was currently pulling out a first aid kit and a beer while the Rakna was in the bathroom supposedly cleaning up. Sam shifted uncomfortably against the wall, _this feels too weird._ And tried to ignore it by tilting his head and considering what he now was and what his options were.

_I effect people, I effect Dean, with cold like any other ghost or spirit. So that makes it hard to try and communicate with him...especially after the incident at the store._ Sam scrunched up his nose, what was he supposed to do then? And how was he even in the room if there were wards up?

_Could be bound to the Rakna, makes sense, I came back to the waking world next to it._

"Lovely." He sighed but instantly regretted it as a soft breeze of cold blew out into the room, Dean froze and looked up, tense.

_Dammit_. He scowled and moved well away from the wall, his eye catching the window by the door.

With Dean's gaze fixed opposite it, Sam quickly darted over in a blink and put his hands on the latch before opening it silently and swiftly. Letting out a breath as another gust of wind came through, he relaxed and perched on the side of the table as he brother saw the open window and came to a conclusion.

A moment later, the Rakna appeared from the bathroom and raised an eyebrow at the first aid kid, "I'm fine Dean."

"I'll be the judge of that." Dean replied simply, "Now sit."

It rolled it's eyes, making Sam's stomach clench, and coming over to sit on the edge of the bed as Dean started checking it over for wounds.

The head wound from the freezer had stopped bleeding and seemed fairly fine, "I'm guessing the Rakna had a hand in this." Dean mumbled.

It shrugged, "I spose'."

He cleaned the cut anyhow and dabbed it with antiseptic before bandaging it and moving the to the abrasions on his wrists from the zip tie. A scowl riddled Dean's face as he tended to them, "What makes an apparently nice kid start dropping bodies when he dies?" He grumbled, more to himself.

The demonic spirit shrugged the shoulders of the body it was possessing, "He was locked inside a freezer by his like...boyfriend. I'd say that hurts." It added in a believable grimace to the antiseptic.

"Wouldn't think he'd want to go and kill people the same way though- I don't know, I'll never understands ghosts." Dean murmured as he wrapped each wrist before looking at the faint bruises marring its jawline and cheeks from the tight gag. "That'll be fine." He commented to himself, sitting back.

Sam frowned, thinking over why Daniel _would_ have done what he did and realised with a cold pull in his chest that he _did_ understand. At least partially, the sudden rage to take back what was taken and show people what had happened was overwhelming and frustrating. Though his own situation was a little different and much more reasonable for him to want to strangle to life out of the son of a bitch possessing his body and fooling his brother, he still felt that he understood on some level and it scared him. He didn't want to be some sort of a spirit standing on the sidelines until his brother salted him away to a veil. He wanted to be back in his own body.

"You sure you feel fine? You were practically frozen by the time I got you out." Dean fretted, his voice cutting into Sam's thoughts, and sounding as though he still clearly did not believe that his brother had walked away completely fine from that.

The Rakna shrugged once more, "Honestly, I dunno. I mean, a general meaning of the name Rakna is something along the lines of _boiling_ and _insanity_, maybe the boiling part was literal." It smirked, earning a snort from Dean.

Sam bit the inside of his cheek, _you bet it bloody is_. He thought, remembering with vivid detail how painful it had been.

He then noted that he seemed to be the opposite to that, Sam frowned in thought and blocked off the conversation between his brother and the demon.

It was entirely possible that he was now the spirit side to the demon spirit, so he was more 'cold ghost' than anything rather than the actual demon side. _That was a bonus, _he supposed.

_So what, the Rakna had split itself, my soul and its spectral tether to keep me out since it couldn't actually destroy me and its demonic side in an empty shell of my body._

_And I suppose since a Rakna isn't a normal demon, it isn't effected by the usual traps and wards. Which I bet Dean and I already discovered when it first made an appearance. _

He pondered over all of this for a moment before knocking his head back against the wall, he didn't like that any better than not knowing.

Sam stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets, he couldn't see them but he could almost feel that they were there in some odd way that he couldn't be bothered lending thought to.

He looked about the room with half lidded eyes until they fell upon Dean's duffel, a bottle of holy water partially visible. Sam stood suddenly, wondering if he could get the Rakna to somehow ingest it, or for Dean to test it like he did with the salt and iron.

Hesitating, he took a step forward and when no reaction was given- continued over to the duffel. Maybe he could get Dean to at least look at it and get the idea hisself.

Sam crouched by the bag and tentatively reached out a hand and pushed the bottle so it shifted to the opposite side.

Dean frowned and glanced over from where he sat, currently drinking a beer, and peered at the bottle.

"Come on Dean." Sam hissed quietly, "Take the goddamn hint."

His brother's eyes flicked between the holy water bottle and the Rakna before he looked about the room at all the sigils in place and then back at the Rakna's questionable gaze.

"Nothin'." He replied to the look and took another swig, obviously believing that if there was a demon of some sort, it couldn't be there.

_Yodu're an absolute idiot Dean._ Sam raged to himself, rising once more and holding off the urge to give a nasty uppercut to the demon before him.

**XxxxxxxxxX**

With his brother and the Rakna now in bed, catching up on sleep that the eventful night had taken away, Sam didn't really know what to do. He felt a depressingly gaping feeling of loneliness and suddenly felt sorry for any ghost out in the world.

Sam watched the gentle rise and fall of his brother's chest as he slept restlessly, and twiddled his fingers, wondering if he should or not.

He sighed and made a decision, wandering silently over to the bed and easing himself down as softly as he could; Dean seemed to stir slightly at the sudden chill but instead of waking, he simply pulling the covers tighter around him and relaxed.

Breathing a sigh of relief and trying to ignore the fact that the Rakna was most likely awake, he slid himself onto the other half of the queen sized bed and lay there rigid, feeling at least a little more comfortable in close presence to his brother's warm body.

Urging himself to relax also, he turned his head to look at Dean and wished against anything that he would open his eyes and see him.

When that didn't happen, Sam sighed inwardly and turned to watch the ceiling, feeling comforted by the constant rhythm of breaths beside him.

'_That's cute_.' The Rakna intruded into his mind and Sam glared above him, pushing away the voice.

_Piss off_. He thought in reply and was thankful for the silence afterwards.

He lay there for a while, not allowing his mind to think about anything and instead focusing on his brother's breathing; then what felt like hours later, Dean shifted in his sleep and a hand lolled out to the side to fall into Sam's own spectral one.

He held his breath, expecting his brother to jolt awake and blast him with rock salt, what he didn't expect however was for Dean to relax and and whisper out a soft, "Sam."

**XxxxxxxX**

**_There ya have it! Hope you enjoyed, it's a tad longer than usual but never as long as I'd like. Oh well, we all write differently. Reviews make me extremely happy! ^^_**

**_Have a great 2015 everyone 3_**


	8. Does That Make Me Crazy?

**_So, so, so sorry for the wait! I completely forget to mention that I was meeting up with an online friend for a while and only yesterday got a chance to write again. Again, apologies but I hope you enjoy this chapter. :)_**

If Sam said that everything was fixed and fine over the next few days, he'd be lying.

A week. One whole week had passed and nothing had changed, he'd gone from standing by in secrecy and trying to conjure up a logical solution, to more forceful measures when he came up with naught. He tried his hardest to get his brother to take the bloody hint but was capped in the face with iron and salt each time. The whole process of being flung into a veil never got easier to bare; he almost felt sorry for the spirits they dealt with, but it was getting easier to come back quicker and stronger.

Never seemed to really help his cause though and he had no idea how _blind_ Dean could be, it was infuriating to say the least.

Vaguely Sam wondered if this was all working in the Rakna's favour and driving him insane.

Oddly enough, things that weren't Dean figuring out the whole problem were bothering him considerably. The small things that he supposed after a beat of thought, weren't really that small. He missed sleeping, he could still _just_ feel the tell tale pull of sleep right on the fringes of his spirit like consciousness and if he could bite his nails or bleed out his tongue, he had no doubt he would have by now.

Sam missed the way everything felt solid and not something hollow, something able to push through if he just thought about it. Sam missed how he heard everything within a small radius instead of such a large range that he could hear the other screams of fellow supernatural beings restless and stuck.

Most of all though, he supposed, he missed being able to interact with human beings. It was the hollow, cold pit in his non existent stomach that ached from the solitude; even the demon stopped talking to him, instead giving cackles now and then that sent him on the brink of fleeing to the veil.

Spirits could project a visible form, he knew that from years of experience, but after a week of trying, it was pretty clear that doing it wasn't so quite so simple as it seemed. Sam had tried looking in a mirror, searching for any sort of sign he was getting somewhere but after hours of mind reeling frustration he had to leave as the mirror not showing anything was rather unsettling.

Even though the nights were the hardest the bare, with that shoulder of sleep constantly chewing away at the shoulders of what once was human, it was strangely also his favourite time. When he could lay next to his brother; who had most likely later kick his rear for putting them in a half consensual chick flick moment, and do his best to stave of any cold that his for, emitted. It was when his brother knew who he was in his sleep and probably kept him from flinging himself into the veil each night.

Watching Dean fumble around with what the hell was following them around, past the wards and unchanged by the few rituals he tried, held a mixture of amusement and downright seething anger. The demon possessing his body was good at keeping up appearances, well enough apparently as not to warrant any further suspicious from his older brother. _That_ was unnerving at best, Sam wondered just how long it'd take the next time Sam wasn't Sam.

If there was a next time.

They had to be a next time, he was doing fine just floating about as a goddamn spectral being, it wasn't like he was going anywhere else permanent for the time being- being attached to his possessed body and all. All he had to do was get Dean's attention without being blown off the face of reality with a cooking utensil or a sprinkle of salt from a grimy motel shaker.

Sam had taken to sulking in the corners of the room whenever he came back from that, wondering why he bothered to try it again to a hot headed hunter, now paranoid some powerful supernatural asshat was on his tail.

Currently this was his position, he sat as best he could while keeping any thoughts of falling through at bay, and watched in half mast eyelids as his brother packed.

Dean wanted to hit the road and head far away, said they could get a job somewhere that put a state in between here and wherever there was; obviously hoping the _thing_ wouldn't follow.

But Sam would always follow, wether that be by choice or from his tightly wound tether. He wondered how many more tries it'd take before Dean would stop blowing his sorry ass sky high full of rock salt.

Maybe today, maybe tomorrow, maybe when he finally went insane.

**XxxxxxxxxxxxX**

Sitting in the backseat of a car where one occupant smiled deviously to itself and the other cast quizzical glances in the rear view mirror never made traveling very fun. In Sam's well educated and experienced opinion anyway.

It wasn't like he was exactly doing much to even disturb the air, he'd learned to somewhat control that side effect within the first few days to a certain extent. That never stopped the clockwork like chills that convulsed through any human's body within a few meters of him or the slightly fogged up windows unfortunately though. Sam knew Dean noticed this and Sam knew it troubled him a hell of a lot but his elder sibling wouldn't let it show too often. It was like working with an overly proud yet worn brick wall.

So when Dean tightly reached over and turned up the volume of the music and rolled down the windows, Sam sighed inwardly and leaned back, knowing that when his brother was stubborn, he wouldn't get anywhere fast. He had to wait for a certain opportunity.

The Rakna form of him reacted accordingly with a raise eyebrow but pressed lips; Sam wanted to lean over and yank the SOB right back down to hell to starve. Alternately though, he gripped the seats with as much strength he could muster before realising it was affecting the upholstery physically and hastily retracted his hands before seething silently and rigidly.

He thought he understood why spirits are so unhinged, and he'd only been one for a week.

Sam was glad that barely a conversation had sparked between his brother and the demon, it was hard to watch and stay docile about it. He'd learned to just tune it out by listening off to the distant screeches of supernatural disturbances or partially cowering in the veil but that never blocked out the knowing, cold pressure on his chest that they were _chatting_ without issue.

Knowing they had hours and hours more of travel with only purposeful obnoxious behaviour to accompany him he allowed his presence to slip away into the veil. It was the closest thing to shut eye he had.

**XxxxxxxxxX**

Upon feeling a notion of difference with his tether to the real world, Sam was drawn back out of the veil to note that they had stopped at a motel for the night and were unpacking both duffels from the trunk.

Sam sidled over and hovered near to his brother but far enough away as not to arouse suspicion just yet, it was like dealing with a wild animal, he had to be patient and slow going. It was breaking away his sanity piece by piece.

He followed at a distance into the motel room and noted it seemed that little bit better than usual before he had to jump out of the way of an incoming spray of salt from his irate brother. He missed it by a fraction and tried to coddle to outskirts of reality while Dean checked the wards and the salt lines with renewed, obsessive passion. The Rakna held an extremely amused expression when Dean's back was turned and Sam could almost see the red glint in its eye at his brother's frustration.

_I will rip your face off._ He hissed silently with new found rage.

It simply gave him a pointed look before going over to help finish off the wards and check the salt lines, giving and gaining few words back and fourth.

Sam glared with all the anger he could muster and wished he could just ditch something sharp into it's skull- and suddenly the empty glass on the bedside table flung forward into the air and shattered on impact with the Rakna's back.

All he got to see was it stumbling and crying out with Dean flipping the switch to protective brotherly mode before Sam was hauled away to the veil, having used his strength set for the time being.

_Wasn't it's skull but good enough._

**XxxxxxxxxxX**

The next time he came round, it was past midnight and both occupants of the room were in bed, one feigning unconsciousness and the other soundly asleep.

Ignoring the brief flicker of a pair of red pinpricks from the bed in the corner of the room, Sam moved past and went to his usual place at night.

Feeling unusually weary but not the kind sleep could solve, he lied down beside his brother, a space almost habitually and unknowingly left for him. It was the small things like that, that made him smile, if only for a while. Dean shifted in his sleep, murmured and drew the covers closer before settling again, now facing Sam.

Watching his brother, Sam furrowed his brow in thought, wondering if it were possible to somehow communicate to Dean while he was asleep.

He decided it wouldn't hurt to try and focused completely on his brother, reaching for his remaining source of spectral strength before risking a, _Dean_?

An unwanted reply was sent back his way, amusement and malicious feelings radiating from said response, _Nope, try again_.

Gritting his teeth, he tried to block out the Rakna and stared at his brother intently, investing solely on just thinking of him before silently giving it a go once more.

..._Dean_? He asked, tentatively. Waiting for a sarcastic response that never came.

For a moment he thought it hadn't gotten through, that it had left him spent with nothing to show for it but then miraculously, a long sought after reply.

_Sam_? The whole structure of the response was jittery and distant along with heavy confusion and disgruntled emotion laced through it.

But it sounded amazing to Sam, his brother had noticed him finally and spoken to him directly. Euphoria fizzed despite himself and wondered if he could work up another message.

Sam knew he wouldn't be able to keep this up at all, it was painful to think about doing it again but he had to, just once more at least to try and get a point across.

He wondered what the hell he should even say, something limited to two words. Short, to the point. They didn't exactly have a code word for 'I've been possessed' or 'I've been possessed and projected as a spectral being.'

Feeling the ethereal pull, of what he could have called some sort of spirit exhaustion, back to the veil- he knew he had to hurry and pushed against it. Who knew throwing a cup was so draining.

Sam scavenged his head for some sort of word that would effectively inform his brother; sure, they had one for being compromised but that would hardly tie up any loose ends for his case.

If they were separated however...Sam decided that would have to be good enough before closing his eyes and using every ounce of his remaining power to send back the long awaited reply. Not even entirely sure how he was even doing this and trying to ignore how cheesy it felt.

It was difficult and nearly cut off his last word but he just about managed it before being whisked away into the darkness.

_Phonebook. Alone._

Sam didn't get to hear a reply.

**XxxxxxxxX**

Sam had rolled back up by the time the sun was up and both users of the motel were up, or more so, one. Dean was gone and Sam felt both a sudden fire of hope and despair at the thought of being too late.

He moved quickly over to where the phone book lay on the tiny motel room table, closed but hopefully used. Sam felt a strained twinge with his spectral abilities but not as much as last night, so he glanced around and once certain the Rakna was not in the room- it was outside in fact, doing god knows what- he opened up the book and looked for the first motel shown.

Once fixing it in his mind, he let go of his wavering hold on the solid object before turning just as the demon walked back into the motel, it's eyes flaring with what was most likely annoyance.

"What are you doing?" It snarled, vocally speaking to him this time in what _did not_ sound human.

Choosing not to reply, Sam held the gaze of a face that looked exactly like his own except with a marred expression of nefarious intent and instead tried to focus on shifting to another location.

Shifting was never as hard as anything else, it was about as easy as walking into the veil but when he'd never been to the place he was trying to get to, it made it that little bit more difficult and when you had a hell creature glaring at you directly, it really disrupted your focus.

The coordinates were set in his mind and he felt the familiar pull and faze in-faze out like motion, if he said he disliked traveling this way he'd be lying but he could definitely give it up without hesitation if it meant being back with Dean.

His vision on the motel room and the Rakna's burning eyes began to blur and fade around the edges, the ground falling from underneath him and instead throwing in sounds from somewhere that wasn't there.

Just before he left though, the demon curled its mouth into a twisted and crooked smile, "It won't work." And then he was gone, feeling the empty space between the two points he was travelling through before stuttering to a stop at unfamiliar territory.

Sam swallowed and stilled for a moment, gathering his bearings and trying to get used to the unearthly feel of such a sudden movement. It was a hell of a lot similar to being sent someplace by an angel and equally as disorientating the first few times.

Relaxed into his new area, he blinked and looked around to find an alright looking motel squatted by a road and half a dozen cars parked alongside it, one of them being the impala.

Sam nearly crumbled in relief before realising his brother was walking back to it, looking impatient and annoyed. He was heading back. Sam swore and quickly went over.

"Dean." He tried, grimacing as his brother tensed against a shiver.

Dean looked up and about however, not intent on getting in his car anymore, his hand was poised by his pocket though and eyes were narrowed warily.

Sam took a cautious step forward and repeated the name a little louder, "Dean."

The shorter Winchesters' head snapped towards him and his left foot seemed to be deciding wether or not to take a step back.

He wasn't being tossed into walls though, so Sam supposed that was the only real reason his brother was even standing still. Not many ghosts and spirits that had dealt with were particularly talkative and calm about their problems.

Dean glanced around however and appeared to realise how strange he would look if someone were to peep out their window, so he retreated to around to back of the impala and opened up the compartment under the boot, pulling out a tire iron and pack of salt before closing and locking it again then walking around the back side of the motel.

It was as close as Sam was going to get so, being wary of the items held in his brothers hand, followed along until they were out of sight. Or more so Dean was out of sight. Sam wondered if there was an average time limit to when you were able to show your spiritual visage.

Dean looked around once more, conflicted, before clearing his throat and awkwardly asking to what could have been open air to the average person, "Are you..uh, there?" It was finished with a half roll of his eyes as if he couldn't believe he was doing this. It was way too cliche.

Sam nearly laughed but instead did his best to respond by reaching out and tapping a soft hand on his shoulder, trying desperately to ignore the flinch it elected.

"What are...do you-?" The question was muddled and a crossover between two but it was easy enough for Sam to decipher. What was he? His younger brother that was slowly being driven insane from experiencing life as an ethereal being. What did he want? His frankly dumbass brother to notice the problem. How to go about it? He had no clue.

He'd thought it'd be easy to just trace some words into the dirt but it was too light and small and delicate for something even more so to mark, plus being as inexperienced as he was, that probably played a large hand in it too.

Sam wondered why his brother didn't just ask, he had answered with Sam in his sleep state and clearly remembered it from just being here, so why wouldn't he just say the word.

Though he supposed it was probably just blind stubbornness, _he_ wouldn't want to know that he'd been hanging around with something that wasn't Dean while the real Dean wandered around loosing his mind.

But Dean seemed to be reasoning with something in his head and Sam didn't get a chance to think of how to reply anymore.

"Phonebook."

It sounded random and strange but Sam guessed that his brother needed some closure to make sure he didn't just imagine last night; so with that in mind Sam reached forward again and touched his shoulder. The flinch was more suppressed this time.

There was an extremely long stretch of silence as the brothers stared at each other, one unable to see the other but somehow looking straight into his gaze, like he knew the height for what he was talk-

"Dean." He said again, with more urgency behind it.

A wince was thrown back and Sam sighed, stepping into his brother's personal space but leaning away from the tire iron. "_Dean_." And gripped each of his arms.

This was clearly the wrong thing to do as Dean leapt back and lashed out the iron object through Sam's spectral body, expelling him with another inhuman screech that he hated, into the veil. Dean jolted and stepped back further, looking around frantically before moving to head to the impala. He hesitated.

Sam pushed himself out of the veil with practised ease, for once, and took a desperate hold of the back of Dean's shoulder only to be sprayed with salt this time.

Salt always did more on him than iron but after some moments he made his way out just as Dean was rounding the corner was more.

_It's not like I'm chucking you around jerk, see some logic._ He seethed.

Dean annoyed him. Dean was grating in his nerves like an extra sharpened knife and Sam wanted to whack him to oblivion. Sam just wanted Dean to see him if he couldn't see logic.

So he caught up and with a burst of defiance and desperation up his spine, running forward and yanking his brother around to face him. "Dean you _son of a bitch_!"

He expected to be shoved away from the real world once more, he expected a flash of salt in his face or a swing with the tire iron. He got none of these things and was left panting and breathless with both frustration and exhaustion as he realised the one thing he hoped for the most, was the last thing he ever expected.

Dean was frozen in place and looking at him in disbelief and shock, actually looking at him. Sam frowned and glanced down and sure enough he seemed more than just a wavy outline, he looked like a pale and transparent version of himself but it was the most beautiful and grounding thing he'd ever seen in his life, no matter how narcissistic it seemed. He gave a short laugh in success and felt his own taste of shock before looking back at Dean who was opening and closing his mouth but not quite making the words.

Sam wondered if he made some sort of record with the fastest visual image of a spectral form.

"Dean." He said once more, sounding out of breath.

It took a few more moments before he was finally granted an answer, ".._Sam_?"

"Yeah, Dean. Sam." He tried his best to keep out the sarcasm, he failed.

Dean shifted on his feet and gaped for a few seconds more, "I'm conf- what?"

"If you pass out, I'll kill you." Sam threatened though feeling utterly wonderful, "It's me Dean, not the one in the motel, I'm the thing that's been following you."

"Other one- whoa wait. Hold up. What are you _on_ about?"

Sam sighed, impatience wearing into his joy. "The other me that you've been best buds with." He explained dryly, his smile falling off completely.

Dean was staring at him like a deer in headlights before he pocketed the salt and reached out a curious hand, which passed right through. Sam gave him a look, unamused.

"Can you not?"

Sensing the importance of the situation, Dean quickly retracted his hand and cleared his throat, "Other you? I-"

"The demon."

Dean blanched and gave him a double take, "You mean I've been hanging around with a demon the whole time?"

"Yeah, pretty much." Sam deadpanned.

"How did it get past the- oh." The older Winchester seemed to have finally caught on and Sam felt himself relax, though with that his visual form also flickered.

He looked down at his ever growing translucent form and frowned, "Damn."

Dean raised an eyebrow, "I'm guessing that's not supposed to be happening."

Sam didn't bother to reply with words, instead sent him an irritated look and tried to think of what to say before he was once again just a presence.

"Damnit think!" He whispered to himself, feeling heavily pressured.

Though was apparently heard as Dean replied with a snarky, "I can see right through you."

"Shut up."

A beat of quiet passed and then, "Don't say anything, you never discovered any of this." Sam ordered with urgency.

"What?"

"And make it believable, Dean!"

Dean looked as if he was going to gag, "Why do I have to be friends with it, can't I just burn it's demonic ass with holy water?"

"No. Not yet." Sam felt his body fading and a tether being pulled, he was too far away from the Rakna and it seemed to have learned a way to pull him back. "Also, maybe try using the holy water a little earlier, I gave you a goddamn hint." He added just before he vanished from sight and was thrown back to the motel in a dizzy and dark haze.

Dean's expression of guilt and regret was evident though but Sam didn't wish to take back his words.

**XxxxxxxxxX**

Sam waited in silence, in his usual corner by the window to disguise the chill and made himself look sullen and pissed for the demons benefit. It seemed to work.

Some minutes later, Dean appeared at the door, closing it behind him with hesitation and visibly swallowing and throwing on a facade before turning and acting as normal as he could. Sam didn't miss the flicker of his eyes as he tried to place where his real brother was.

"Hey Dean." The Rakna spoke up from the bed, on Sam's laptop and apparently looking for another job in the area. "How did, wherever the hell you went, go?" It put in the uncertainty, slight annoyance and suspicious tint into it that made Sam cringe with how believable it sounded.

Dean's jaw tightened but he replied back with a swift, "Just a failed hunch. Found us a job?"

Sam was surprised Dean hadn't exploded with the amount of tension winding up his muscles, so he got up and padded over and stood behind him, still putting some distance as not to arouse suspicion from the demon but enough to give off his presence to Dean. He knew he'd be chewed out for the chick flick like moment but he saw Dean visibly relax a bit and he didn't really mind.

"Uh, maybe, not sure yet." It responded, glancing up for a brief moment before going back to the laptop screen.

"Right well, I'm going to have a shower." Dean announced airily before picking up various items of clothing and a towel and heading into the bathroom. Sam stayed put and instead sat on the edge of his brother's bed.

_'I'll drive you insane before and if you ever get this body back.' _A white hot hiss lanced through his head and Sam jolted, everything turning into a smushed blur and hue of red.

He didn't even get a chance to try and ground himself before he was flung into the veil.

He didn't come back out for a while.

**_There you have it, chaoter 8!_**

**_As always, reviews are greatly appreciated. :)_**


	9. Somebody Call Out to Your Brother

**_A day late but I do try my hardest, plus a lot update once a week, so I hope I'm making you guys happy anyhow. XD Special thanks to _**Idreamofivan_**, **_in-silent-seas_**and **_SamSam_**for constantly updating their support! Cheers guys, I really appreciate it! :)**_

**_And of course, everyone else who has updated, just because you may have done it once doesn't mean I don't count you xD. If you update once, if you update 60 times, you all mean a lot to me._**

**_So thanks! Hope you continue to enjoy this story._**

**_Without further redo, here's chapter 9!_**

Out of everything that had happened and could have happened, it was the case that screwed it all up.

Keeping up appearances to the Rakna was extremely tough on Dean, Sam could tell- but he had already signed on to do a job, so that's what they did.

It seemed like a simple haunting, something they could salt and burn with only a few minor tossing into walls that would leave dark bruises by morning. Nothing major and nothing to really worry about, the only thing Dean would be looking over his shoulder for was the demon possessing his kid brother's body. If said demon noticed the change in the Winchester's actions, it didn't act upon nor show it.

So, a regular ghost with the same general story of a brutal murder and it wanting revenge, though its rage over the years became diverse and confusing and soon it'd attack anyone that came into the house where it died.

"Kathy Green." Dean had repeated to himself, "That's who we're dealing with?"

Sam hadn't missed the tell tale clench in his brother's jaw at speaking to a demon so casually.

"Yeah, she was killed by her father when she was nineteen, he had found out she had a girlfriend and clearly wasn't at all open minded." The Rakna had answered with the overlay of sympathy and disgust towards the story. It had been Sam's turn to cringe.

The house was on the edge of the town they were staying in, a rundown clapboarded two story with an overgrown porch, basement used as a wine cellar and scratch-worn slats for floors. It was the picture of ghost stories and Dean had snorted when they arrived; despite his company.

As soon as they had turned up and exited the impala, Sam had had the sudden urge to flee and hide with a nonexistent tail between his legs. It was like some sort of spirit territory line that sent his vision and being flickering between spaces in reality. The screeches at a volume only fellow supernatural beings could hear were turned high up and racking through his skull, it had taken all of Sam's self control not to respond with his own pain wrenched one.

His spots of usually controlled cold had run wild and had been flinging about wherever he flicked to and fro as he tried to stay away from the rock-salt and iron, along with the EMF meter that was picking up two signs of supernatural activity. Sam had suddenly wondered why it hadn't spiked at all before.

The demon had deliberately said nothing to the extra sign of disturbance, instead had flashed Sam a nefarious little smile, eyes blinking red. If it thought Dean hadn't saw, it was incorrect, though Dean would hardly take his eyes off the demon anymore anyway and if he had doubted Sam before, he certainly didn't then.

Sam had tried to stay behind Dean once they had started heading over to the front porch steps and well away from interfering. But the constant shifting to different spots on the dried grass from his unstable hold to the area had made it extremely difficult and his brother had jumped and nearly flung out at him from time to time just on the walk over.

It had just got worse the closer he got to the house, the screams from Kathy had become a whole new level above _bloody loud_ and he had stumbled and staggered and passed through objects to try and get a grip on the real world.

Then, just as Dean had taken one foot onto the step leading up the porch, all went silent as if Kathy had suddenly realised the bigger threat than another ghost impeding on her grounds.

Sam had gotten his bearings once more and had followed them up to the porch, only to be flung away with practised force into and through the walls of the house and smashed into a mirror, an inhuman screech tearing out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

Gunshots had gone off and hurried steps had creaked at the old porch before the rotting door was kicked open with a violent squeal.

Sam had groaned and blinked, not liking that something the same as him could beat him up. A pale figure in a dress and dark hair had looked down at him with long lost, crazed eyes. "_Go away_!" She had hissed, looming.

He had barely enough time to shift away into another room before she had tried to strike him again; Sam had then stealthily made his way to the main room where Dean and the Rakna were laying a ring of salt as some sort of safe base.

Though once he had entered, the EMF spiked dangerously again and Dean spun and had shot off a round of rock-salt that Sam had barely managed to dodge, reeling out another supernatural like scream that merged into something that sounded a little like him. Sam had paused, taking cover in another room and had looked down to see he was in fact visible.

Sam had swore and tried to hide himself again but found it wouldn't work, if Dean saw him in the Rakna's presence, then their secret attempt and getting rid of the demon would be a bust.

And that's where they were currently, Sam wanting to both help and run, Dean trying to distinguish between both Sam and Kathy and the Rakna enjoying every moment of Sam's helplessness and Dean's confusion.

Kathy flickered past in a mere second, ignoring Sam and instead trying to ram through the salt barrier to its two occupants who raised their shot guns and fired, displacing her restless being. Sam swallowed and risked a glance around the corner into the main room just as Dean was stepping out of the salt ring, "I'll look in the basement for her remains, you said she wasn't buried outside of the house right?"

The Rakna shook it's head, "The father didn't want to be found out."

With that, Dean scurried down the hall, shotgun at the ready to fire at any incoming ghost missiles. Sam pulled himself back around the corner and followed him at a steady pace which didn't do much as the EMF whirred anyhow. On the steps leading down to the basement, Dean paused and looked behind him to where Sam now stopped, his older brother swallowed upon seeing the transparent image of him before gesturing with his head to the basement and moving down.

Though as Sam took a step forward, a girl's scream passed his way and spectral hands gripped his shoulders and dug through; they felt below zero cold and hurt his form like hell, feeling like his non existent bones were melting in some sort of freezing lava. Dean whirled just as he screamed and was flung to the side, physical form dissipating.

Dean bit back a call of his name and instead raised his weapon only to have it flung from his grip and have cold hands wrap around his throat.

He gagged and choked, trying to reach for the tire iron in the back of his jeans but came unsuccessful as a numbing wave pulsed out through his veins and he felt his vision darkening.

Sam tore through the echoes of pain and shoved his way back into full reality, flicking over to Kathy and wrapping his arms around her chest and pulling her off his brother before throwing her over to the steps.

Dean gasped for breath and leaned back on the door to the cellar for a moment before shaking his head clear and picking up his shotgun as Kathy got back up, feature twisting into something that was no longer human.

Hasty footsteps that weren't either of the three by the staircase came into hearing and Sam glanced up, seeing the shadow of his body before he panicked and dived forward, catching Kathy in his grip and sending them through the wall, out of sight and from the room.

From whatever room they were in now, Sam heard a gunshot go off and could only assume Dean was making up for Kathy's sudden disappearance who was now clawing at him on the dusty floor.

"_Why do you help them_?" She spat, eyes blaring with an unnatural fire.

"They're trying to help _you_." He panted, trying to fight her off but was unsuccessful as she pounced on him and held him down, a twisted smile curling her blackened lips.

"_Kill them with me_."

"N-no."

"_Kill them_." She insisted, voice reaching into his head. "_We kill them_!"

Sam struggled in vain, unable to push her off as she kept him fixed to the spot with his freezing grip.

"_Kill them_!" She screeched.

The coldness that emitted from her spectral being probed his mind and sent unwanted rage and insanity tumbling through, drawing on his high anxiety and threat on his own sanity back from the past week. He felt annoyance and frustration turn irate as he remembered Dean never bothering to check the demon with holy water. Sam felt a sudden anger light up inside at the memory of being blasted with salt and whacked with iron each day, a cold pit in his stomach at Dean trying to keep him out of the motel.

Somewhere in the back of his not violated mind he knew none of these were Dean's fault but the uncontrollable fire at the front of all his thoughts made it near impossible to reach.

Kathy released her grip and eased back, a sick, delighted look in her eye, "_Daddy drowned me in the lake when it was frozen over._" She explained, crawling over to the side of his prone form.

"_He smashed a hole and shoved me under_."

She leaned in to whisper directly in his ear, "_It was _so_ cold_. _He was gonna do the same to Mia but she ran away._"

Sam stared up at the rickety ceiling and wondered what he was doing here again.

"_I don't know why daddy wanted to kill me. But I killed him too and anyone else that tried to kill me. Like those two in_ my _house_." Her odd, cooing voice turned strangled and fiery in seconds as she pushed herself back up and glared at the closed door hiding them from the hallway.

Kathy looked back down at Sam and grinned mischievously before disappearing into thin air; Sam blinked and frowned and sat up before hearing a far away voice.

"I'm good, go check upstairs while I finish looking around the basement." Dean, it was Dean's voice.

Sam stood up himself and walked through the door, finding himself in a hallway that led to the steps down into the cellar.

He needed to help Dean, that was it. The numb feeling that enveloped his mind opened a little, letting in logic and sane thoughts that almost felt _warm_.

Jogging now, he caught back up to Dean just as he was entering the cellar but couldn't help the sudden onslaught of anger at the sight of him. Sam swallowed forcefully and tried to force it down as his brother turned, jumping slightly at his sudden appearance.

"You OK?"

Sam merely nodded tightly and wandered about the basement with Dean, looking for where Kathy's remains could be hidden.

But why did he want to find them again? Why would he want to burn her body? Sam glanced at Dean who was shining his torch through the short rows of wine barrels. Why was he helping Dean?

He almost turned to go over to his brother when he suddenly considered why he wasn't attacking the Rakna instead. Sam halted completely and tilted his head, listening out for signs Kathy was with him and was rewarded with the familiar yelp and holler from both the demon and spirit.

Satisfied, he blinked and realised Dean was talking to him, Sam looked over at his brother's concerned face and frowned. "What?"

"I asked if your were alright." He replied, the torch glancing over him for a moment. "You seem kinda...off."

Sam gave him a pointed look and Dean snorted, "Bad choice of words."

"Yeah, I'm fine." Sam answered, pausing before changing the conversation, "Found anything yet?"

Dean gave an annoyed look and sighed, turning back to sweep his torch over the barrels, "Not yet, you?"

"Nothing."

The older Winchester began knocking on the walls, seeing if there were any hollow areas as he spoke up again, a little awkwardly, "Uh, thanks by the way."

Sam looked up from scanning a shelf at the side of the room, "For what?"

"Before with Kathy." Dean shrugged, "Nice to know being some sort of a spirit hasn't changed you. How is that anyway?"

A niggling feeling started up in his chest and shoulders, hot and cold at the same time, Sam hid a wince and rolled them before coming up with a reply, "No problem I guess and uhm, weird. It's hard to describe, I have to constantly try not to fall through the floor or lean into a wall."

A snort came in reply from the other side of the dark room, "How many times has that happened."

"Shut up."

Dean laughed quietly to himself before asking again, "I'm guessing you don't sleep?"

Sam thought for a moment, did the veil count as sleeping? He shrugged, "Not exactly, no. I can almost feel myself wanting to sleep but I just can't I guess, I don't need to."

"Huh- so wait. At the store, when you collapsed...when you woke up was that the demon or you?"

"Demon."

He heard his brother draw in a disgusted breath, "God, I've been best pals with a demon for over a week. And you, you kept touching me man."

"Dude, I was not _touching_ you, I was trying to get you to notice me. It was _just a bit _of a shock to wake up as some sort of ghost like form where no one can see or hear you."

A moment of quiet passed between them and then Dean spoke up again, sounding more sincere.

"How've you been?"

Moving away from the shelf, Sam looked along the walls and furrowed his brow, "What do you mean?"

"Being a ghost, Sam. If that doesn't have some sort of effect then I don't know what does."

He shrugged even through Dean couldn't see him, "OK, I guess." He lied.

Another pause, "You sure?"

"No."

Dean offered nothing to bridge the conversation and remained silent as they both continued searching for a couple minutes, till he lamely tried to break the ice.

"Who knew finding a dead body in a 7x7 room would be so hard, surely there'd be a smell." He complained half heartedly.

"It's been dead for a few years and I imagine its in something to contain clues like that. Authorities and all." Sam pointed out meagrely.

"See? The demon doesn't quite have the bitch face down like you do. That's how I know it's not you." Dean quipped, his voice closer than before.

Sam turned his head and raised an eyebrow, "You can't see my face."

"Ah but I can hear it little brother."

Huffing a soft laugh, Sam moved over to where two steel cupboards were, he tested the handle to find it locked before shrugging and reaching through to unlock it from the inside.

Sam jumped when Dean's voice spoke up from behind him, "Man, _that_ could be useful though."

He scoffed and shook his head before opening the door with barely a creak, Dean shon his torch over each of the shelves but came up with only rusted tools and an old cricket bat.

A sudden gunshot echoed upstairs and both Winchesters glanced up, a second followed and this time a girl's scream followed.

"I'm not hearing as much banging around as I usually would if it was actually you up there." Dean commented dryly, Sam shot him a glare that felt more angry than it was meant to.

"It's certainly taking his time to look around up there, surely it's not dumb enough to think the body would be upstairs." Dean added.

"I think it's more about waiting until the last minute to save you from possible death." Came the deadpan reply.

It was Dean's turn to give a pissed glare.

_Kill them_! A sudden enraged hiss flooded through his head and Sam drew in a sharp breath, staggering as a wave of cold rolled on through him.

"Sam?" Dean asked, all anger now lost on his brother.

He waved him off before another hiss scratched away at his sanity, _Kill them both! Kill them now!_ Sam blanched, "_Gah_!" And pulled his hands to his head, all sound being blocked out and all feelings becoming suddenly detached.

He could hear a heartbeat though, one next to him that was slightly raised. One next to him that belonged to someone he should hate but couldn't quite remember why. That didn't seem to matter though because when a hand tentatively and awkwardly tried to give comfort to him on his shoulder, he reared back and looked up with a snarl, neck and head moving at an unnatural pace and angle before it cocked and settled on the figure before him.

"Whoa, Sam. What's wrong?" Dean asked, hands raised and forcing a short but nervous laugh.

_Kill them_! Kathy's voice blazed in his eardrums and Sam snapped forward, reaching out with his hand to grab Dean and throw him against a wall.

"No Sam-" Was all Dean managed before he was flung across the room and into the grimy brick wall.

Sam took a step and was instantly beside his brother, standing over his groaning form with dark eyes and paling features.

"Jeez Sam." He wheezed, propping himself up, "I know you're pissed at me shooting you full of rock-salt this past week but-" Sam leaned down and gripped his shirt collar, hauling him up and ditching him into a shelf that stood in the middle of the basement.

The already cracking wood broke on impact and the miscellaneous items it had been holding fell and shattered and clunked on the floor below.

A small, twisted smile crept up onto Sam's face as he looked down at Dean once more, who was biting back a stream of curses and brushing glass off his jacket and face, wincing at the cuts. "Come on Sam," He tried, serious now, "Snap out of it." Dean looked up at him as if daring him to make another move.

Sam merely cocked his head, overwhelmed with the numb feeling suffocating his brain.

Dean narrowed his eyes, trying to ignore the smile on his brother's features before asking, "Kathy did something didn't she?"

With that, Sam took hold of him again and chucked him across the room with an anything-but-natural screech before reappearing beside him again and kneeled next to him, finding Dean's neck with his hands and applying pressure.

Dean spluttered and bucked at the sudden lack of air, "Sam stop-" He drew in a thin and ragged breath of air. "Please- M' sorry." He wasn't one to beg but Dean thought his brother deserved at least a sorry for not noticing him for a whole week. It didn't stop the hands around his throat getting tighter though.

Looking in the corners of his hazing vision, Dean saw his dropped shotgun on the ground near him and while scrabbling at the spectral hands clutching his airway, he stretched out with his left leg to try and pull it towards him.

This went unnoticed by Sam who continued to stare him down with a hatred that didn't look like his own and didn't relent in choking him.

The weapon was closer now and Dean dropped an arm, feigning exhaustion which wasn't far from the truth, before reaching out and catching hold of the handle with his nails. His vision was darkening and growing wavy about the edges, he swallowed and instantly regretted it as he started gagging but couldn't get anything in or out, all breath lost from him now.

The handle of the shotgun was in his fingers now and he subtly drew it closer, grabbed proper hold before using the last of his strength to ram the iron through Sam's body; who raged in defiance and tried to flicker away from him. Dean pulled in a dizzying breath and took unsteady aim before firing a round of rock salt right into his brother's snarling face. A blood curdling scream tore through his ear drums followed by silence and mixed feelings of relief and guilt.

"Sorry Sammy." Dean sighed, staying on the ground and gulping in more air.

He needed to find and burn Kathy's remains before Sam returned and hopefully broke whatever kind of daze he was in.

Rolling over and pulling himself up with a low groan of pain, Dean held onto the locked cabinet for support and straightened, testing his legs and arms before hissing when he tried moving his right wrist. Most definitely fractured, he concluded.

Harsh bruises rattled up his back and dug into his spine, neck and lower back every time he moved, Dean bit his cheek and started on unlocking the cabinet door. When it came up with nothing he hissed in frustration and jolted as a shot was fired off upstairs, clearly the Rakna was having about the same luck as him. Whatever it's truthfulness was even worth.

He stumbled hastily across the room till he found his torch on the floor by the now broken shelf, picked it up and flicked it on before walking through a row of stacked barrels. The white beam picked up a dip on the ground just underneath a stack of wine barrels and Dean paused, crouching with effort to get a better look. He pushed at the barrel hiding the dip and it grated across the concrete-like ground to reveal a practically unused, stone, trap door.

"Eureka." Dean muttered, popping the torch in his mouth quickly and used his left hand to grip the iron handle before pulling with all the strength he had left. Sure enough, it creaked slightly as he strained the hinges for the first time in a long while and arced it till it was open completely. Instantly, the familiar horrible stench of a dead body wafted up to meet him and he retched, blindly grabbing for the torch and risking a look down.

An almost skeleton like body was lay face up to greet him and Dean grimaced, "That's just lovely."

The sudden gust of cold brought him back to attention and he hurried for the salt and matches in his pocket before either Sam or Kathy showed up.

Ripping open the packet of salt, he poured the contents down into the small hole big enough to cram a small body and went for the matches next.

With fumbling fingers, he managed to strike up a flame on third go and grinned in success until it was blown out before he had a chance to drop it. His smile was replaced with a scowl, he turned his head to find the source of his failure and found both spirits standing a few meters away regarding him coldly.

Dean looked between the two and swallowed, "Hi there." Trying not to look at the blank, dark look obscuring his little brother's facial expression.

Kathy growled open mouthed, revealing a set of charcoal and brown, sharp teeth as her eyes blackened and head tilted at an odd angle. She started towards him.

Cursing under his breath, Dean pulled his shotgun around once more and sent off a round that exploded Kathy's presence in a flash. Sam remained, standing scarily still until Dean tried to focus back on the task at hand and light a match.

He cried out something deathly cold wrapped around his broken wrist and twisted it, Dean was yanked away from the trap door and could only holler at the pain flaring in his arm.

"Sammy- _stop_!" He tried, spitting out a pained plea.

Surprisingly, the hold on his wrist loosened and he stopped being dragged across the floor, Dean looked up to his brother who's once dark look had been replaced by a lost expression.

"Hey, hey Sam. Come on man, this isn't you. Let go of me, yeah?" He said softly, not looking away from Sam's gaze.

His younger brother frowned as if considering it before following his arm with his eyes down to where he was holding Dean upright and suddenly let go as if in realisation. Dean hit to the ground with a thud but sighed as the pressure on his fracture was released.

"D'n?" Sam mumbled, pressing a hand to his forehead and grimacing.

"Sam, that you?" Dean asked tentatively while slowly pulling himself back over to the trap door.

"I don't- uhm-" They were both interrupted as Kathy decided to reappear, menace scrawled all over her face as she stormed over and gripped Sam in the shoulders once more, shoving him down.

"_Gah_!" He cried and tried to squirm away from the unforgiving hold but it only tightened as numbness started to spread throughout him again.

Not liking the distraction but using it anyway, Dean lifted himself up and scrambled to the trap door, picking up the dropped match box and striking one across the side. It refused to light and he cursed, frantically trying over and over.

"_Kill them_!" Kathy hissed sharply and Dean glanced over his shoulder as she tormented his brother. He forced himself to look back away from the writhing body and continue trying to light a flame in the now freezing and damp cellar.

"_I said kill them! Kill them now_!" She screeched and before Dean knew it, a familiar set of hands were on him again, trying to stop him from burning the bones.

Who knew it'd be so god damn hard to just light a match and chuck it down a hole, also where the hell was the Rakna? While Dean despised it, it still wouldn't hurt to actually come down and act like Sam to help.

His back was slammed down roughly onto the brick and he was met with the upside down face of his brother, once again under some sort of influence from Kathy.

Dean growled in pain from the bruises but continued to fumble with the match, managing to light it just as steps came down into the basement and a shot went off, taking out both spirits and letting Dean push himself up and to throw the flaming match down into the bones where it instantly caught alight from the dry sack beneath it. "Bye bitch."

A silhouette of a burning girl lit up the cellar, beside another who's flames were torn of it's back and the body slumped, disappearing.

A scream sliced through the walls of the house as the skeleton burned alight, and then silence.

Dean breathed out and leaned against the barrel, looking sideways at the Rakna who looked around the basement, "Dean? You alright?"

"Yeah." He sighed, "Just a bit bruised, nothing to worry about." He lied. The last thing he needed was a demon to take care of him.

To prove his point, Dean pulled himself to his feet and and looked at the Rakna, daring it to say something about his physical wellbeing. Keeping up appearances however, Dean slowly walked over and let his eyes roam over his brother's possessed body, "What about you?"

He merely felt concern for his brother's physical state but that apparently sounded convincing enough and the demon shrugged, "Same as you I guess, I'll be sore tomorrow but I'm all good." It them frowned and peered at his face, dark in the cellar light. "Are you bleeding?"

Remembering the throw into the shelf, Dean gestured towards it and shrugged himself, "Just flesh wounds."

His heart ached for the person in front of him to really be his brother but all he got was a faked, doubtful smile and gesture for them to get going.

As they climbed the basement steps out, Dean wondered if Sam would remember any of what had happened and for both their sakes, hoped not. They didn't need beyond the veil arguments that messed with both their heads.

The sun was dipping below the horizon once they came to the impala and Dean was almost certain that as he started up the engine, a slight presence of cold appeared in the backseat. He glanced in the rear vision mirror to meet some invisible gaze but as soon as he thought their eye's could have met, the cold vanished and Dean supposed his brother had run back to the veil.

He sighed inwardly and turned the car around to the road, Sam _did_ remember and he clearly hated it. But Dean supposed he had to give the kid credit, he doubted _he_ could go through loosing his body for over a week and if that wasn't enough, be violated by some other spirit to try and kill his brother without some sort of emotional repercussion.

Sliding into another gear, he grimaced; everyone needed some time to run and hide now and then, he'd give Sam this one.

**_There we go, some action, some drama, a little angst. Hope it was enjoyable and as always, I love reviews to keep me going. There's nothing worse than silence._**

**_Till the next chapter, :)_**


End file.
